Misfit
by jibber59
Summary: An ATF Christmas tale. To quote Rudolph (my inspiration for this) "Why don't I fit in?"
1. Chapter 1

"What the hell do you mean Ezra isn't coming back? Which part of 'get back to the office when you're done' did he fail to understand?"

Buck Wilmington tilted his office chair back to the point the creaking of the springs could be easily heard in the silence that had engulfed the room. The clattering of keyboards and scratching of pen on paper had stopped the instant Chris Larabee opened his mouth. They'd all known the inevitable explosion would happen, but it was impossible to predict the intensity, or who it would be targeted at, since the real desired recipient wasn't there. Buck had taken it on, knowing, after years of occasionally strained friendship, Chris would need to vent and would later regret having targeted the messenger. Their relationship would make the whole thing easier to blow past.

So he sat, waiting patiently, for the tirade to end. Or at least to calm to a point where the answers would be heard.

"Ezra called when he was 'summarily dismissed' from the debrief in the deputy director's office. I get the feeling they were none to please with him."

"Why would they be?. Eight months of backgrounding, 2 more prep and 3 weeks undercover and suddenly the whole damned things blows up in our faces."

"Wasn't Ezra's fault." Josiah's voice was low but the words, and their message, was clear.

Taking a risk when he should have known better, Vin joined into the discussion. "You can't think for a minute Ezra isn't as pissed of about this as anyone else. He's the one who's been dealing up close with that bastard since the beginning of the month. Don't you think he wanted to take him down?"

Still steaming and pacing angrily Chris turned sharply. "I don't know Vin. If he wanted it that bad, how the hell did it get screwed up. Who tipped St. Claire off?"

"Don't Chris." Buck's warning was instantaneous. "You know that's crazy."

The tone was enough to stop give the team leader the notice he needed. He stopped his prowling long enough to take note of the intense glowering coming from his men. "Well, give me another explanation?" The question wasn't as defiant as it might have been, leading them to believe he really was hoping someone could come up with an alternate theory.

"There are probably a dozen other possibilities, but even if we couldn't come up with one, it doesn't mean you should be jumping the way you are Chris, and you know it."

"So where is he? Why didn't he come back?"

The answer came from an unexpected source. "Likely because he wasn't in the mood to deal with this after everything he was just subjected to." Judge Orin Travis walked briskly into the room, the look on his face matching the tone of his voice. Upset didn't seem to cover it. "Are you saying the paper-pushers and higher-ups were right for a change? You think Standish had something to do with why this all went sour on us?"

Several resounding 'no's responded, most accented by some rather colourful adjectives. The fact the Chris remained silent was Travis's clue there was more to this. "Larabee. Talk to me."

"I don't have an explanation. Somebody, somewhere, had to have told St. Claire what was happening. We were too close, and everything was tight."

No one spoke the Judge continued to stare Chris down. "Doesn't exactly answer the question."

"You answer one first. What did you mean about the higher ups? They giving Ezra a hard time on this?"

That would certain explain why the newest member of Team 7 hadn't come back to the office. In the months he'd been with ATF he still hadn't come to feel like he was really a part of the organization. The thorough shafting he'd had to deal with when he was summarily ousted from the FBI had left bitter feelings that ran much deeper than he would admit to. He hadn't come close to believing that he could ever be accepted into the fold here, and if the people in charge had just spent the afternoon questioning his loyalty, it certainly wasn't going to help matters. Chris was feeling more than a flash of guilt over his own reaction to the situation.

"Hard time doesn't quite cover it."

"Well then they are dumber that dirt." JD finally reached the point he couldn't hold back any longer. As much as he liked his job, and respected his boss, he wasn't about to just stand there when his friend was being attacked.

Travis looked at the young agent with a gaze that had withered many a lawyer who had appeared before him back in his courtroom days. He could see a quick shudder pass through the kid but had to admire the fact he stood his ground.

"Intellectual issues notwithstanding, they were completely within their power to question Agent Standish, and from what I heard when I arrived, it sounds like you would like to have the opportunity to do the same. And you haven't exactly answered the question yet."

"No, I haven't. And no, I don't think Ezra is the informant. Maybe, just maybe, he inadvertently did something to tip them off, but I doubt it. Intentionally – not a chance." He was a bit surprised to realize he actually believed every word he was saying. Ezra Standish could be, and often was, a pain in the neck. Not to mention other places. And there was no denying that the man could manipulate a situation to his best interests more often than not. The issue of his past – the one prior to his somewhat unexpected choice of a career in law enforcement – was one best left undiscussed as much as was possible. Yet despite all of this, and maybe even in a small way because of it, Chris had come to the realization that when all cards were on the table, he trusted Ezra. With his life, and more importantly, with the lives of the other five members of his team. His family.

"Ezra's too smart at this game to have done it by mistake either. You and your friends upstairs need to look somewhere else Judge. Whatever happened, it didn't come from here." The steadfast certainty in Josiah's voice was a perfect reflection of the way he felt on the matter. And, looking around the room, Travis wasn't the least bit surprised to see the same expression on all of the others.

"I agree." A soft sigh of relief went through the room at the Judge's words. The battle may not be over, but at least there was another soldier on their side now, and a high ranking one at that. "But that isn't going to be enough to solve the dilemma Agent Standish has created."

Just once, couldn't something run smoothly. "Shit. What did he do?"

"I may be paraphrasing a bit here, but I am pretty certain his parting words to the deputy director were 'Permit me the opportunity to simplify your considerations in this matter. I shall alleviate your obligation to ruminate on the most appropriate dismissal possibilities by informing you of my immediate resignation from this organization. Or, to put it in terms your small minds might be more capable of comprehending – you can't fire me, I quit'."

"God damned stupid son of a bitch!"

"Yes, I'd say that sums it up quite well Wilmington." Travis turned his attention back to Chris. "I take it from your earlier comment that you don't know where our wayward agent can be found at the moment?"

Already running possibilities through his mind, Chris sighed deeply. "Well, I suppose there can't be more than about 100 bars he might head to."

"Or home to his own well stocked cabinet." Nathan suggested.

"Or home to pack a bag." JD spoke quietly, but not quietly enough.

"No JD. Pissed off as he may be, I don't see him just walking out on us like that. Not saying he won't leave, if this plays through, but he won't leave like that." Vin wasn't just offering up what they all wanted to hear. Most of Ezra's past remained a mystery to them, but a few late night stakeouts had brought Vin a bit closer to the man than the others had managed to get. Maybe closer than just about anybody had been able to. And while it was no exaggeration to say that Ezra valued his privacy beyond anything else, he had started to let his guard down ever so slightly. Enough to make it clear that the acceptance he was getting in this group was more than he'd ever had before, and Vin would have bet his next month's pay that he was right about this.

"Not so sure he's pissed off." Josiah had also learned to understand Ezra somewhat in the few months as the younger man had begun to cautiously open up, at least in some ways. Watching him closely, Josiah had come to one simple conclusion: Ezra was a man who wanted – needed – to find someplace to fit in, as was deeply afraid he would never do so. If this latest debacle set that process back, Josiah wasn't certain there would be another chance.

Not really registering Josiah's comment, Chris decided it was time for action over talking. "OK, start calling the usual places and see if he's been to any of them. Vin, you and Buck can make the rounds to the spots close by. With luck, we'll find him there." He turned and asked the question they had all been thinking of but didn't dare voice. "Did they take him seriously? Is he done?"

Travis shook his head slightly. "It took a bit of convincing, but not a great deal. There will likely be a reprimand for his actions but at the moment that is the extent of the repercussions. I've also informed them that he, and the team, are not expected in again until after the holidays, so you guys have a bit of time to sort all this out. Make sure he comes back with a written apology in hand."

"And when we prove he had nothing to do with this, does he get one of those from them?" JD was still seething at the injustice of the entire situation.

The comment earned him another glare from Travis, but without replying, the Judge just turned and left.

"What are you doing kid? Trying to get yourself in as much trouble as Ezra is?"

"He doesn't deserve to be treated like that Buck. Just because he's not as by the book as those jackasses in suits are, they think he's crooked. It ain't fair."

Fairness wasn't a concern at the moment. Finding Ezra was, and the men all started on the tasks, none of them knowing for certain what they would do with him after that.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"OK, thanks. If you see him, give me a call. What – yeah. Merry Christmas." Nathan hung up the phone and crossed another bar off his list. He looked over to Josiah's desk and could see he was almost at the end of his list as well. It was getting late in the afternoon and the fact that Ezra had been out on his own for a few hours was starting to make them desperate. "So, do we widen the search or try something else?"

Josiah shrugged, hanging up from his call as well. "I'm at a bit of a loss to figure what that something else would be. Does rather bring home the point that we really don't know him all that well, doesn't it?"

He began dialling the second to last bar on his list when he paused. Chris's cell was ringing, and the tone let them all know it was Buck.

"Find him?"

"Nope, but at least found where he'd been. Little dive called – ready for this? – "The Ace".

Chris nodded without being aware of his actions. Of course. Leave it to Ezra to find a place like that. "And…?"

"He left about 20 minutes before we got there. Before you ask, no, he's not driving. Actually gave his keys over to the bartender when he got there, so I guess he's not too far gone."

"Or too far away, unless he took a cab."

JD was already bringing up cab companies, tapping into their systems (he'd deal with any consequences of that action later) to see if there had been a pick-up in the area. He shook his head when Chris looked at him.

"Start cruising the area."

"Vin's already out there."

"Good. If he's on foot, and if he's had a few –"

Buck cut in. "More than a few Chris. Bartender cut him off but is now saying he wished he done it sooner. And I doubt he had any lunch today."

Reining in the slew of curses that crossed his mind, Chris tried to keep himself from loosing his legendary temper again. "Just look. We'll head out as well."

"Can't JD find him through his phone?"

Forgetting for a moment that the action wouldn't be seen Chris shook his head. "We thought of that. He was undercover, so he's just got the burner on him and since it's not on, it's no help. His phone is here in his desk."

They'd found it when they'd tried calling him. It hadn't taken much coercion to get JD to try to hack his way in, looking for any information that might lead them to the wayward agent. The contact list was frighteningly sparse. Beyond professional contacts – doctor, lawyer and similar – there were only a handful of names. With the six obvious exceptions, each name was an out of town number, and none showed any recent activity. The realization that Ezra had no where to turn for support had left them all stunned.

They were grabbing for jackets and keys when a text from Vin came through seconds after Chris disconnected the call from Buck.

_Got him. Taking him back to his place. Don't come._

The four men looked at each other, then quickly headed out to their cars while JD answered Buck's subsequent text with just four words. "_See you at Ezra's_"

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Vin was making himself dizzy as his head pivoted rapidly as he scanned the crowded streets for signs of the familiar burgundy coloured jacket. He couldn't say why he was sure, but he knew Ezra was close by. Shape he was in he couldn't have gone too far away. The hope now was that no one had decided an inebriated wanderer would make an easy mark for mugging, or worse. Of course, they'd all seen Ezra's reaction time, even after a few beers. Anyone targeting him might be in for a surprise, but Vin couldn't help but worry that today that wouldn't be the case.

He was about to turn down a side street when a distinctive voice and turn of phrase got his ear.

"My most earnest and profound contrition madam for my clumsiness and inadvertent discourtesy."

"You're drunk." The disgust in the woman's tone was evident.

"Unquestionably accurate, and an extraordinarily astute observation on your part."

It took only a few quick strides for Vin to cover the half block and intercede before Ezra ended up getting his face slapped.

"Whoa there Pard. Think it's about time we got you to a safe environment, don't you? Pardon us ma'am."

"Your friend is a drunk." She restated her complaint.

"Not really. Just victim of a real bad day. You have yourself a Merry Christmas ma'am." He put on what he hoped was his most charming smile as he tried to steer Ezra away from the scene.

"One moment Mr. Tanner. This enchanting lady and I were enjoying an intriguing conversation which you have boorishly interrupted."

How the hell did he do that? Most drunks couldn't put two words together, and if they could you could bet the words would be far less socially acceptable.

"That's ok Ez. She's gotta be going, and we've got somewhere to be as well." Seeing Ezra was about to speak again, and deeply afraid of what could be the result, Vin took him firmly by the arm and steered him away. He could hear the 'tsking' of the woman they left behind and had to fight his instinct to point out to the woman that judging others was not the best way to spend your time right before Christmas. Or at any other time of year for that matter.

"Unhand me Mr. Tanner."

"Sorry Ezra. Can't do that. You have an appointment to keep."

"I am able to, without fear of contradiction, unequivocally assure you that any engagements which had been arranged for the day no longer have any significant relevance."

Damn, that was annoying. "Trust me Pard. This one is significant. Chris is looking for you."

"Indubitably. Another party seeking to assess and malign my character, or rather lack of same. Well, it would certainly not be in the spirit of the season were I to deny him one of his deepest joys in life. Onward good sir."

As much as he would have loved to stop on the spot and lecture Ezra about everything that was wrong in what he'd just said, Vin recognized that to do so would mean stopping their forward momentum, and under the circumstances, that was a bad idea. Besides, given how smashed he was right now, nothing said to him would be remembered. Probably.

It took only a couple of attempts to get Ezra settled into Vin's truck. The biggest obstacle was overcoming his innate distaste for the vehicle. His preference tended toward more sophisticated modes of transportation.

"We'll get your car back for you tomorrow Ezra, but for now, lets just take advantage of mine being so handy." With an appropriately theatrical sigh, Ezra hoisted himself into the Jeep, stumbling slightly in his effort, and settled back. Vin sent a quick text to Chris as he made his way to the drivers seat, knowing it was highly unlikely the request he was making would be honoured.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"Of course I remember the combination for my own home Mr. Tanner. I am intoxicated, not addled." Ezra tapped on the keypad to his condo while Vin watched in silence. He knew the code as well but decided it was best to allow his friend a couple of attempts first to try to save face. It was impossible to keep the shock from his face when the door was opened on the first attempt, but fortunately Ezra was not paying him any attention. How the man functioned so well when clearly drunk was yet another of the mysteries that made up Ezra Standish.

He took off his coat, heading toward the kitchen to get a pot of coffee going. He knew it wouldn't help Ezra, but he figured he was going to need it himself. Draping the coat over a chair, he looked up at the sound of a bottle being heavily put down on a table and saw Ezra already downing another drink.

"Damn it Ez. That is not why I brought you home." He moved quickly to grab the glass and discovered once again how untraditional a drunk the man was.

Neatly dodging away, Ezra picked up the bottle as he stepped aside and made his way to the sofa, grinning broadly. "But my selection of beverages is far more extensive and vastly superior than was available in that last establishment. I really cannot say whatever possessed me to cross that threshold." He shuddered slightly at the memory.

From where he stood Vin could see there wasn't much left in that particular bottle of scotch so decided there was not point in making an issue of the matter. He went back toward the kitchen and to the coffee he was now certain would be essential to his ability to survive the evening. On the way, he closed the door to the liquor cabinet, wishing he had a key and wondering if there was anything else he could use to block it off.

"No doubt my ability to function at this level is proving to be a source of exasperation to you. In fairness, I should tell you it derives from years of experience, both personal and professional. The nature of my work –" a small hiccup interrupted him, offering the first sign Vin had that gave him any hope – "requires I be able to maintain functionality while partaking of alcohol."

"Well Pard, you're off duty. You can relax."

Ezra shook his head with vehemence. "No, no, no. I am never off duty. That is rather the point. Letting one's guard down is simply not an option."

The connotations of that simple sentiment stopped Vin in his tracks. How had it never occurred to him that Ezra spent his life putting on a front? Being more, or perhaps less, than he really was? Guiltily taking advantage of the alcohol induced honesty of the moment, Vin prodded a bit further.

"Ezra, you putting on an act when you're around us? You know you don't need to be doing that."

"Mr. Tanner, my entire existence is little more than an act. It astounds me that you remain unaware of that, as I am quite certain the others have reached that conclusion. Now, if you will excuse me, I am feeling somewhat fatigued by the events of the day, and the admittedly rather excessive amount of questionable alcohol I have imbibed."

Reluctantly, but understanding the situation, Vin rose to help him through to his room. By the time he had taken the few steps needed to approach the sofa, he realized that wasn't how things were going to play out. Those few seconds were all it took for Ezra to slip out of his shoes and stretch out, folding his arms under his head for a makeshift pillow. Nothing looked remotely comfortable about the posture.

"Ah, now don't do that. You ain't gonna be able to move in the morning if you sack out like that." The words were wasted as a soft snore came from the prone figure. Shaking his head yet again, Vin made his way to the bedroom to retrieve the needed items to try to improve the situation.

The knocking at the door interrupted his return trip. He tossed the blanket and pillows to the chair before heading over. Slipping the chain on, he opened the door.

"He's asleep Chris."

"More like passed out."

"Call it what you want, he's in no shape for company. So, why don't you all head home, and this discussion can take place tomorrow."

Nathan's voice came from the back of the group. "He ok?"

There was a pause before answering, which was all the healer needed to hear. "Vin, at least let me in there to make sure he didn't drink himself into trouble."

"He didn't. Least ways, not the kind you're talking about." Vin looked out at the five faces staring back. Yes, there was some residual anger there, but mostly he saw concern. The same the he probably had on his own face at the moment. He closed the door enough to release the chain but stood in the way of anyone entering.

"Let him sleep this off. If he wakes up, no questioning, at least not until morning. There's more to this than just a bad bust Chris. I think the guys in suits got to him more than he would like to admit, even to himself. He doesn't need you – any of you – adding to that."

A steely eyed stare prepared him for the response he would get. "I'm not some kind of monster Vin. Not going to beat on him while he's down. I want to find out what happened so we can get him out of whatever shit they've put him in. And yes, I'm pissed that he chose to get drunk instead of deal with things, but I'm not exactly the one to be calling him on that, am I? Now, let me see that he's alright."

Another muffled snore alerted them all to Ezra location and their reactions made for an interesting image.

Nathan did as was to be expected, moving swiftly to the couch and checking on the man who was now his patient, needed or not. Buck choked back a laugh at the sight of the normally fastidious Ezra sprawled out with just a trace of drool evident. He went for his phone, determined to immortalize the moment but a swift swat from Josiah ended the effort – at least for the moment. JD, knowing his roommate, grabbed the phone away at the same time to forestall a future effort. "Leave it be Buck. I've seen you drunk, and trust me, you would want pictures of that anymore than he will."

Having finished blocking any photographic evidence of the temporary fall from refined grace, Josiah walked over, grabbing the abandoned pillows and blanket as he approached. Nudging Nathan to the side – "He's fine Nathan. Not like you haven't seen the rest of us like this, or worse" – he gently lifted Ezra's head and placed the pillow under it. Rousing only slightly at the sensation, Ezra reached up, pulling the pillow around so his head rested just barely on one end, while his arms wrapped around the rest in a tight hug. He shifted enough to free his face from the smothering sensation, then settled back into his quiet stupor. Waiting long enough to be sure not to disturb him again, Josiah finally draped the blanket, tucking it gently behind.

Vin moved back to the chair next to the end of the sofa, claiming his spot as official watcher. "No need for the rest of you to stay. I've got this." His words stirred Chris from his frozen gaze at the last member of the team. The building anger disappeared the moment Ezra snuggled himself into his coverings. For just an instant, Chris's mind flashed back to the nights Adam had moved in an almost identical fashion to tuck himself into the safety and comfort of his own bed. It was a combination of innocence and vulnerability that he never would have associated with the cocky, self-confident undercover agent who drove him crazy on an almost daily basis.

"Settle in folks. We're staying. Don't want him having any doubts when he wakes up that we are all 100% behind him."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	3. Chapter 3

"You cannot seriously expect a bunch of grown men to sit around here and watch some damned cartoon JD!" Buck could not believe what had happened in the short time he'd been out. Ezra had not exactly been supplied for himself, let alone for company, and pickings in the fridge didn't even qualify as slim. Pizza and subs had been ordered, and Buck and Josiah had done a quick run to the corner convenience store for beer and snacks as well.

Now, the hockey game he had been watching was gone from the TV, replaced by, of all things, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

"First off, what makes you think you qualify as a grown up Buck? This is what they call a classic Buck, it's not just some cartoon. And it's animation. Jeez – don't you know anything?"

"Whatever. Doesn't explain while we're wasting our time when there is a perfectly good hockey game on."

This was not the first time JD had been victim to Buck's view of what was and wasn't worth doing or watching, but he wasn't in the mood for his presumptuousness today. Not having to pretend to be offended by Buck's apparent callousness JD snapped back his response.

"We are 'wasting' our time on this because it is two days before Christmas, because we've all had a shitty week and a shitty day and most importantly it's because this is the show my mom and I used to watch together every Christmas. That good enough for you?"

The ensuing silence was broken only by the ongoing sound from the TV and a soft snort from Ezra. The rest of the team froze, waiting for Buck to find a way to dig himself out of the hole he tumbled headfirst into.

"Well hell kid, it's family. Why didn't you just say that in the first place?" He gently punched JD in the shoulder as he walked past and plopped himself onto the arm of Chris's chair. "So, where's the popcorn?"

With only a faint blush coming to his cheeks, JD dropped himself to the floor next to where Buck had perched. "Jeez Buck, what's the matter with you. If you're watching Christmas stuff it's cookies and eggnog, not popcorn."

Josiah laughed softly. "What if it's a Christmas movie? What do you do then?"

"Yeah," Chris joined into the discussion now that the tension had been released, "you can't watch Die Hard with cookies and eggnog."

"Dammit Chris, I keep telling you that is NOT a Christmas movie. No snow, no Santa, no reindeer – not Christmas!"

"Takes place at Christmas, so that counts Nathan."

JD sought to silence them as the commercial break ended and the show returned. Throughout the conversation, Vin had kept his attention focused on Ezra, hoping the scene hadn't disturbed his needed rest. Even allowing for his current state of intoxicated unconsciousness it wasn't hard to see something was off. Ezra had a faint tension around the eyes that never would have shown itself if he'd been aware of his surroundings. And while it had been, as JD pointed out, a hard week and even harder day, Vin couldn't help but think there was more going on.

Satisfied that his charge was still sleeping for the moment, albeit less than soundly, Vin pushed himself off the floor beside the sofa and wandered to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to find the immaculate room was somewhat lacking in provisions. Had they not made a run for supplies, there would have been precious little to eat or drink, at least by team requirements.

What worried him was the lack of any evidence of holiday planning. True, his own place wasn't exactly festive looking by most standards, but he had hung a wreath and put out the cards he'd received. And the tattered Christmas stocking he'd had since his mother gave it to him as a child still was hung every year, regardless of his circumstances. Ezra had nothing. No tree, wreath, tinsel or decoration of any kind. Not even a stray card. His space at work was equally void of ornamentation, but since he'd been on assignment no one had given that a second thought.

Gazing around again, Vin's sharp eye landed a piece of paper sticking out from beside the waste can. Whether it had been tossed there or had simply fallen was impossible to say, but in a pristinely kept home, it seemed drastically out of place. He picked it up and stood just as Chris entered the kitchen.

"Any wrong?"

Vin shrugged. "Don't know yet." He opened the tightly wadded note. "It's from Maude." He scanned over it, cursing softly as he proceeded, then let his hand drop to his side as he looked back at the still form on the sofa. "Son of a bitch can't catch a break."

Without asking, Chris took the note and read it himself. His eyes clouded over as he did.

_Dearest Ezra: Whatever would possess you to assume I would abandon my plans to spend time in, of all places, Denver? The holidays are far to lucrative a time for such foolishness. You should have realized the telegram indicating I had no plans was nothing more than a ploy to ensure my invitation to the Count's Swiss Villa. Good Lord son, have you forgotten everything I taught you? If you insist on clinging to your delusion that you might somehow move past your true self and enter into the world of – I shudder to even write this – law enforcement, then you will have to accept that our paths have truly diverged. It was your choice to enter a world into which you would never really be accepted, never really fit in. Why you are surprised by that reality now is something I cannot understand. Should you ever come to your senses I will be happy to welcome you back to the fold. Your loving mother. _

"So he comes back after 3 weeks of a miserable op which crashed and burned only to find this waiting for him?"

Vin didn't avert his gaze from the living room. "Yup. Then gets questioned – hell – interrogated by his own agency. No wonder he went and got drunk."

"I'd say that is a bit more than drunk. Not his best Christmas I'm guessing."

Wondering to himself whether Ezra had ever had a good one, Vin merely nodded. "Let's not share this with the others. Doubt he'd want any of them knowing."

"Doubt he'd want us knowing for that matter."

Chris wandered back into the living room, stopping next to the sofa for a moment to watch Ezra sleep. The peaceful look he'd seen earlier had now disappeared, replaced by a slight frown and furrowing of his brow. Earlier dreams had been overtaken by, if not nightmares certainly something less pleasant. He turned toward his chair, glaring at Buck long enough to send the message that he was returning to take his seat back, thank you very much. Recognizing that this was not the time to mess with his old friend, Buck reluctantly rose from the spot and back to the wide arm of the chair instead. Chris turned his attention to the TV, staring without really seeing what was on it. He was trying, with no success, to figure a way to make things right. It wasn't just the issue with the case, although that was on the list. Despite his earlier anger he knew, as did the others, that there was a logical explanation that didn't involve their teammate betraying anyone. When the dust settled, he was certain that fact would be equally obvious to the people in charge, and if it wasn't, he would find a way to explain it to them. His deeper concern was with the man himself.

If any of the others had been feeling this low, this lost, he'd have seen it. They all would have. And granted, the worst of what Ezra was going through had happened in the last 24 hours, and he'd been away from them for most of that time. That was only marginally an excuse. The truth was, he didn't really get Ezra. Chris had always prided himself on his skill at reading his team – knowing what was bothering them often before they realized it themselves. Ezra was a totally different case. The man brought new definition to poker face. The ever present smug smirk, the blasé attitude about life and the cautious distance he maintained had allowed him to keep himself out of sync with the others. In the months since he'd joined the team they all worked together just fine. On personal matters, away from work, the connection was missing. Sure, he joined them for the occasional drink after hours, and had come out for poker night on a few occasions, much to the chagrin of Buck and JD who went home broke on those nights. But the bond was missing. Thinking back on the tone of the letter from Maude, Chris was beginning to understand why. None of that helped him figure what he would do about it.

Trying not to look to obvious for fear of alerting the others to his concerns, Vin kept his eye on Ezra. He knew Chris was working on the big problem. His own focus was making sure Ezra didn't wake up suddenly and feel overwhelmed by the invasion of the team. Once this show ended he would take advantage of the break to send them on their way.

Efforts to come up with a safe reason for doing that were interrupted by quiet mumblings from the couch. He looked over to see Ezra's eyes were open and he was staring at the TV, but it didn't look like he was recognizing anything. A moment later he closed his eyes again, burrowing deeper into the pillow, almost pulling it over his head.

"Ezra – you alright?" Nathan had seen the movement as well, and worried that the aftereffects of the binge drinking were starting. He reached out a hand to make sure Ezra's face wasn't being blocked, only to have it feebly swatted away. A muttered 'buzz off' accompanied the action.

"Did he just say 'buzz off'?" Buck seemed torn between being shocked and amused. "Never heard him say anything quite so – well – ordinary."

"You aren't exactly at your most coherent when sleeping off a few too many beers. Most of the time you can't do more than grunt."

"Yeah Josiah, but I don't usually speak in 8 syllable words that nobody understands either. You have to admit, 'buzz off' is miles outside of his standard."

Risking another ineffectual attack, Nathan shifted the pillow from behind, trying to make sure Ezra remained both comfortable and breathing. "Go 'way."

"Relax Ezra. Nobody's trying to bother you." Nathan moved back. "Guess some people can't be helped."

Vin scowled at the healer as he spoke, not pleased that Ezra might have heard his comment. "I'll remind you of that next time you don't want to accept a lift home after a Friday night at Inez's bar."

"Na am is it." Vin stopped speaking, looking down at Ezra as he settled himself back under the covers again.

"Once more Ezra, maybe with a bit of more clarity?" Ezra merely snored softly, ignorant of the request.

The look that passed between Chris and Vin was meant to be private, but Josiah spotted it. "Something you two want to share with the class boys?"

"Nothing you need to worry about."

"Beg to differ. If you know something about our wayward son here, I think it would benefit everyone if you shared."

Chris stood firm. "Nope. Not our place to tell, and nothing any of you, any of us can do about it. Especially right now."

"If you all want to help him-"

JD cut Vin off. "Well of course we do."

"Then go home. He needs to sleep, and he doesn't need to be facing another inquisition when he wakes up."

Buck's response was to slide of the perch he'd been resting on and settle to the floor. "Nope. Not happening. He's going to see my handsome face in the morning reassuring him that I am 100% behind him."

"Goes for the rest of us too Vin. Nobody plans to interrogate him – do we Chris?" Josiah asked it as a question, but the tone made it more of an order.

"You guys do remember who's the boss around here, don't you?"

Buck grinned. "Not around here. At the office, sure, why not. But outside of that, no deal."

"Enough." Vin hissed at them. He'd been watching Ezra become restless again. "If you're staying, you are staying quiet. And for God's sake, spread out some. He wakes up during the night he's gonna trip over most of you and likely break his neck."

With a minimum of grumbling and jockeying for position the team spread out. Knowing full well that despite his best efforts Buck simply wouldn't be able to keep quiet if the hockey game was put back on JD found another movie to watch and the men all settled in for the night.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

It was the light in his eyes more than the ache in his back that told Ezra immediately he had not enjoyed the comfort of his soft bed and satin sheets. His window there faced the west, away from the morning glare, but now he was staring into the bright beam the streaked across the living room. More disturbing than that was what the beam highlighted. Six bodies were spread throughout the space in varies postures. Chris was settled into the reading chair, legs crossed at the ankles, arms over his chest. It was the same stance Ezra had seen more than once when he'd been getting the silent glare that proceeded a Larabee Lecture. Josiah had laid claim to the lounging seat in the corner. Buck was sprawled beside the coffee table where he had no doubt been stretched out trying to watch the TV. JD was a few feet away, similarly angled toward the set his head resting on his arms. Nathan had used a couple of throw pillows to fashion a cubby in the far corner of the room. It looked like he had fallen asleep while trying to keep his eye on the couch, which made Ezra realize he had been given the status of patient for the night. That left only one missing man. Standing slowly, hoping his balance would survive the wave of vertigo he was sure would follow the action, he cautiously looked around the room. Vin was flat on his back a few feet away. He had positioned himself in such a way as to make it all but impossible for Ezra to leave the room without disturbing him. Or Chris if he chose the alternate route.

"_Talk about between a rock and a hard place._" he thought as he debated the most advantageous and least threatening route. The choice was made for him when Vin suddenly sat up.

"Can you get yourself to where you're going?"

Ezra set his shoulders back and hoped his voice wouldn't betray the way he felt at this moment. "I have been succeeding in that action for the vast majority of my life. I see know reason why today should differ."

"Well, because it's the day after you drank your lunch and skipped your dinner, so I'd be betting your eyes are spinning and your stomach ain't far behind, so if you need my help…"

"I would gladly take that bet. I assure you I am perfectly capable of functioning on my own. However, if you are desperately in need of offering assistance, there is a task you might perform on my behalf."

Vin rose from his spot trying not to let on that his back had not appreciated the sleeping conditions. No need to give Ezra something else to be feeling bad about. "Name it."

"Please see to it that my unexpected company has departed by the time I return."

"Don't think that will work Ezra. The fellas want to have a little chat with you."

Ezra's gaze narrowed. He could well imagine the chat that was planned, as vague memories of the previous day began to break through the fog that had settled into his brain. He just wished the thoughts were a little less jumbled and presented of a more coherent, not to mention cohesive, picture of the day.

"I am going to retreat to my chambers, remove and possibly discard these garments and spend an uncommonly extended period standing under the shower. It would be in the best interest of all concerned for this assemblage to have departed by the time I complete the task, as I prefer to air dry myself, and generally do so by wandering the apartment '_au_ _naturel'_ until I am ready to select my apparel for the day."

"Suit yourself Pard. Doubt you've got anything that will come as a shock to any of us." Vin stepped back to allow Ezra to pass, then turned toward the kitchen. "We'll have the coffee waiting for you."

Knowing he did not possess the ability to provide the appropriate glare to counter Vin's rather blasé response to implied threat, Ezra chose to simply turn on his heel and depart with whatever dignity he could muster. Praying his balance did not betray him, he marched off in what he hoped was a confident and determined manner. His decision to punctuate his action with the slamming the bedroom door behind him was a move he regretted the moment it was executed. Even before the door made contact with the frame he was wincing, anticipating the fireworks that would go off in his brain as a consequence. He was not to be disappointed, sadly. The room spun as his entire body seemed determined to take revenge on him in a consolidated attack. He lurched toward the bathroom, ordering his stomach to cease and desist in its revolt, and was stunned when it did. Leaning over the sink he allowed the water to get cold before splashing some onto his face. Reluctantly, he raised his face to confront his reflection.

"What have you done to yourself now Standish?" The reflection gave him only a puzzled look in response. "What possible actions could you have taken severe enough to warrant have six men sleeping on your floor, waiting for the opportunity to berate and chastise?"

No answers were forthcoming, and Ezra quickly concluded that until the haze lifted from his awareness he was not going to learn anything more. Stripping down he cautiously stepped into the shower and allowed the process to begin.

Bowing his head to let the pulsing water massage him, he closed his eyes and tried to focus. Slowly, the memories began to come together. The botched job was the first recollection. The only saving grace of the fiasco was that no one had been injured – somewhat of a novelty for them. Ordered to go home and clean up before reporting for a debriefing in the morning, Ezra recalled hurrying to his car before anyone could alter that call. Taking time to regroup, to sort through what had gone wrong, was of paramount importance. Years of past experience told him the blame was going to be place squarely at his feet, and he was determined to find a way to redirect the assault. It never occurred to him to consult with the rest of the team for their input. That same past experience had conditions him to expect nothing would be gained by such an effort.

He had retrieved his mail from the box in the lobby before riding the elevator to the 12th floor. As expected, a few bills and several pieces of advertising. He was about to toss it all onto the counter when the postmark from Europe caught his eye. A note from his mother, no doubt detailing her plans. He remembered hoping he hadn't missed her arrival, although he'd been certain she would have no difficulty in finding ways to keep herself entertained. She had a gift for finding a high stakes card game in any city in the world.

His heart had dropped as he read it. Not coming. He shouldn't have been nearly as surprised as he was by the news. She was right. He knew better than to expect her to place family above a heathy bottom line, and the holiday were indeed a lucrative period. He couldn't help but feel at that moment exactly what he was feeling now - that she was right about the rest of it as well.

His mood, already bleak, had turned black with the news and he had crumpled the letter into a tight ball before tossing it away. He stormed through to the living room, stopping only long enough to grab the scotch from the bar. Filling his tumbler with what amounted to at least a triple, he started to toss it back, pausing as the glass reached his lips. He remembered the lecture he'd given himself.

"_Getting inebriated mere hours in advance of a debriefing would definitely qualify as one of the more imprudent career moves you have made, and given your history, that is quite a claim to make."_ Apparently, he hadn't listened.

Ezra sighed loudly, knowing the water would drown out the sound. He turned his face upward, letting the gentle palpitations work at reviving him a bit further.

The meeting – interrogation – had been about as expected. Clearly something had gone wrong, and equally obvious was the fact a scapegoat would be needed. It was a role with which he had far more than a passing acquaintance.

Fatigue and frustration had kept him far closer to the edge than he normally was, and he paid the price for that. It didn't take very long until he hit the breaking point, and effectively told all those present to take the job and, in the spirit of the holiday, stick it up their chimneys. Not the most diplomatic manner to tender his resignation, but he was long since past the point of caring.

What he should have done next was head directly to talk to Chris and let him know what happened. He owed the man, and the team, that courtesy. But facing them, having to tell them he was for all intent and purpose abandoning them was something he simply couldn't face right now. He needed a bit of fortification first, and despite the early hour he was certain that somewhere in the neighbourhood there had to be a bar ready to address that need.

What happened after that was something he knew he would never be able to testify to. To say the recollections were dim would be an exaggeration of their clarity. Based on the fact there were six men waiting outside, it couldn't have been a particularly good day.

One of the many advantages of the condo he lived in was the access to a virtually unending supply of hot water. If he truly wanted to, he could stand under this torrent all day, or at least until he began to feel moderately human again. The reality was that he figured he was already on borrowed time, and likely had just minutes until his privacy was challenged, if not invaded. He reluctantly turned the taps and stepped out into the steam filled room. Wrapping one of the plush towels around his waist he stumbled to sink again to continue the morning routine. He would pass on a shave right now. Hand wasn't quite steady enough yet for the straight razor he preferred. Detouring his hand away from the toothbrush he was seeking, he to a moment to swipe at the mirror to clear some of condensation, and promptly wished he hadn't. The face staring back at him was not something worth looking at.

"Pull yourself together Standish. You couldn't fool a child the state you're in right now, and those men are decidedly not children. They will eat you alive if you go out there like this." As pep talks went, that one was sorely lacking.

Sounds from the other side of the door paused his activity. It was mostly a buzz, not loud enough to break through both the physical and mental barriers that surrounded him. But the tone was clear. Anger, and a good deal of it, was very much a part of what was being said. Well, he supposed they had the right to be as furious as the wanted to. He had broken his word and walked out. It wasn't the first broken promise of his life, but he knew it was going to be the most damaging.

"Damn them all anyway." His voice was low as he glared at himself in the mirror. "What right do they have to try to control what I do and where I go? They are co-workers – nothing more. Certainly not family. Not that such a status would be anything I could recognize." The buzz from the other room continued. He could hear Buck and Chris raising their voices, but the other were participating as well.

"No doubt continuing their critiques from last night." Snatches of conversation danced in his head. The details were shrouded, but the message was coming back to him. Without knowing it, they had confirmed what his mother had so thoughtfully laid out for him in her missive. He was an outsider, and always would be. Whatever world he tried to exist in fought to turn him away. Fitting in, being part of any kind of normal life was simply not in the cards for Ezra Standish.

His head pounded as the ill-defined images assaulted him and his anger grew. He could feel the tension running through him as he tightened his grip on the toothbrush, snapping it in half. The destruction felt inordinately satisfying and he balled his fist, ready for round two.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Chris disconnected his call with a look of grim determination on his face. It didn't take the others too long to assess the reason.

"Don't tell me those jackasses are taking his resignation seriously?" Buck was ready to charge out of there and into the offices of whatever particular idiot needed his direct attention. He was certain the others would be close behind.

"No, not exactly. According to Travis they commuted that into a one week suspension for insubordination and what he referred to as a generally poor attitude." Despite the seriousness of the moment, he couldn't stop a brief smile from flashing across his face. "He wouldn't repeat Ezra's words – said he couldn't even remember half of them – but the tone apparently left little to the imagination."

Sitting back in his seat, coffee in hand, Josiah grinned. "Our boy does have a rather unique flare, no two ways about it."

"Not that the suspension isn't sufficient motivation, but something else has you pissed off. What?"

"Vin, you are a truly suspicious man. Yeah, there's more. A few of them still seem to think Ezra had something to do with whatever went wrong and are looking at a full investigation."

That had Buck on his feet. "OK, enough of this shit. Which moron needs to have things explained in nice simple language?"

"Down Buck. Beating the crap out of a superior is not a recommended course of action, no matter how warranted it may be." Nathan doubted his words would settle anything, but the effort had to be made.

"Don't care."

JD was now standing next to him, coat in hand ready to head out. "Aside from the fact we know better than to accuse Ezra of that, an attack on one of us is an attack on all, and no one pulls that crap on this team."

Chris knew he should be taking them to task for this. Even if they weren't serious about going after the accusers, and he wasn't entirely certain that was an accurate assessment of their intentions, the suggestion alone was enough to earn them all suspensions right along side Ezra's. His role as leader was to bring them all under control and reprimand them for the actions. His role as friend, on the other hand, made him damned proud to be part of this group.

"The Judge said he'd make sure nobody did anything about this until after we've had some time to go over everything, and with the holid-" the rest of the comment was cut off by a crash from the bathroom. They all turned, but being closest, Josiah was first at the door.

"Hope you're decent Ezra cause I'm coming in. Shit – Nathan, get over here."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

"Damn it Ezra, what did you do to yourself. No, stand still. Don't move." Josiah stepped back to let Nathan through before turning back to the others. "Somebody find some shoes for him. There's broken mirror all over the floor, and he's in bare feet."

Ezra stood mutely, staring at the back his right hand as if it was something he had never seen before. Spots of blood were beginning to appear above the lowest knuckles with a few deeper gashes as well. He showed no reaction at all when Nathan carefully began checking the wounds.

Chris was more than ready to lay into him but backed off as he watched Nathan. There was a look of concern there that didn't seem to match up with the apparent insignificance of the injury. He switched his gaze to what used to be a mirror and now was nothing more than hundreds of small shards that littered the floor. "How bad is it Nathan?"

"My hand received no significant damage, although sadly the mirror did not survive the encounter."

While it was good to see Ezra showing signs of coming back to life, the answer wasn't what Chris had been asking for. "When did you change your name? I asked Nathan."

Without looking up from the work he was doing, Nathan calmly answered. "Could have been a lot worse. Even in a moment of shear lunacy, he had the presence of mind to punch with the flat of his fist rather than squarely with the knuckles. Won't need stitches, and it doesn't look like he broke anything."

"Well, looks like he broke one thing." JD offered as he reappeared from the kitchen with a broom in hand. "When you two are done I'll clean that glass up."

"Not glass, a mirror. One must be specific about these details, since it will be traced back to be the cause of my misfortunes for the next seven years."

"Wrong Ezra." Chris leaned into the room without entering. "I am going to be the cause of those."

A tap at his shoulder had him turn away from the discussion. Buck was presenting him with a pair of shoes to pass over. "Figured this was better than slippers."

Wordlessly, he took them and set them on the floor, then favoured Ezra with a long stare before walking away. There were a million things he wanted to say but knew most of them would only cause more trouble then Ezra was likely able to deal with right now. The lecture would keep, at least for a little while.

"You ministrations, while appreciated, are hardly necessary Nathan. I assure you –"

"Save it. I said the cuts didn't need stitches, but that doesn't mean they don't need tending to. You've got splinters in there and since I'm guessing you'd rather not deal with that irritation, not to mention infection, just shut up and stay still until I've cleaned this up."

He would have liked to say more. Liked to ask him what the hell he thought he was doing pulling a stunt like that. Ask him what was so frustrating to him that he couldn't sit down and talk to him, or anybody else on the team. What was worth risking the consequences of such a futile gesture. But he knew the questions would be a waste of time. Ezra would give him a smartass answer, if he got an answer at all. He'd shrug things off with his usual brusque dismissal. He sighed to himself, wondering why he'd expect anything different. The undercover agent had been part of the team for several months now, and still remained as much of an enigma as he had the day he first walked in. No bonds had been forged, no friendships created. If he were to walk out on them all tomorrow it would make little difference in the personal interactions of the group.

The sadness he felt at that thought was deeper than he'd have expected, and he paused his mental process when that fact registered. It would make a difference, and greater than he would have guessed. He was startled to realize he would miss this frustrating, overconfident, self-satisfied southerner, though he was damned if he could understand why.

A soft, almost inaudible gasp from Ezra brought his full attention back to task he needed to focus on. There were still several small shards to be tweezed out, and he knew he had to do so while inflicting as little pain as possible.

Josiah had heard the quiet reaction as well. "Best do as he says son. You don't want Nathan mad at you while he's working like that." Josiah tried to give Ezra an encouraging smile, but from the reaction he got, he assumed the effort was wasted.

"The treatment is required and the associated discomfort warranted, but I don't believe an audience is a necessity. If I cannot be afforded discretion, perhaps some privacy could be extended?"

Buck tugged JD away from the door. "We can do that Ezra. Doesn't look like there is anything left in there to break, and Nathan wouldn't let you anyway. Come on kid. You and me can head out to the deli up the block and grab everybody some breakfast."

Josiah joined them in walking away, but Vin just propped himself against the door jamb, watching in silence.

Ezra didn't think it was possible to feel any further humiliation, but the unwavering watchful eye of his colleague was proving him wrong. Going on his lifelong philosophy that the best defence is offense, he rallied himself to the task.

"Is there something further I can do to entertain you, or do you find my shame sufficient diversion."

There was an almost immeasurable shift in Vin's composure. He'd never imagined shame to be an emotion the confident agent had in his repertoire, and certainly wouldn't have expected it now. Anger, frustration and resentment were the reactions he expected to have to deal with, and he figured eventually he would. But right now something else took priority.

"You've had a lousy couple of days Ezra. Worried about you is all. No shame involved from what I see."

Ezra stared him down, looking for the crack in the veneer that would tell him there was more to this. He couldn't find it but wasn't ready to accept that there was any genuine concern to be found. It didn't make any sense. Thankfully, Nathan distracted him from having to comment further.

"OK, I think that's all of it. Have you got some gauze I can wrap this up, or do I need to go down to the car for the first aid kit?"

A brief flash of embarrassment crossed Ezra's face as he realized the directions he would have to give. "There are appropriate supplies in the cabinet, behind where the mirror was previously located."

Nathan carefully opened the frame that now constituted a door, hoping to keep the remaining pieces from falling while Ezra was still in the room. He quickly found what was needed and collected the items. "Let's go sit somewhere to make this easier." He started steering Ezra toward the living room but was shrugged off. Instead, Ezra headed straight to his bedroom.

"I do not intend to sit out there in a towel being starred at or worse by the others while you finish a task I am perfectly capable of doing for myself." He reached out with the uninjured hand to take the supplies, but as he expected, was denied that opportunity.

Vin debated for a half a second whether or not to remind Ezra of his plan to 'air dry' in front of the group earlier. Doubting very much the jibe would be well accepted, he passed on the comment and turned away. "We'll be waiting for you with breakfast when Nathan is done. Stop fighting us all the time Pard. You ain't gonna win."

"You will find I am a very poor loser." Ezra muttered too quietly for anyone else to hear.

Vin sat heavily at the end of the couch, pushing aside the bunched up blanket. There were a couple of moment of silence before he finally spoke.

"Honest to God Chris, the man is more stubborn than you are, and I never thought I'd live to see the day I could say that about anyone."

Larabee nodded. "Can't deny he gives me a run for my money on that score. Difference is, I know when to back off on things." He looked up to see his two teammates staring at him in disbelief. "I didn't say I backed off, just that I know when I should."

"That will come as quite a surprise to Judge Travis, amoung others." Josiah offered a cockeyed grin. "I'm sure they would all like to witness it at some point."

"I'm not the issue here. The question at the moment is what do we do about Ezra?"

Shaking his head, Josiah said what they already knew. "Not really much that we can. If he is determined to sabotage himself every step of the way I don't think there is a great deal we can do to stop him."

Vin looked up. "You think that's what he's doing? What he's done?"

"From what I know of his background, what we all heard about his departure from the FBI and how things have played out in his time with us I would have to say the man has an innate ability to make life as difficult as possible for himself."

Thinking back over to the short and far to abrupt letter from Maude, Vin thought there was more too it than self-destruction. "My take is that he figures it's what he deserves. God knows why she put the idea there, but his mother certainly seemed to set him up with the notion he shouldn't expect anymore from life."

Chris had come to pretty much the same conclusion. "The woman does seem to be a piece of work alright."

"And this particular apple doesn't fall far from that tree, correct gentlemen?"

They all turned at the sound of Ezra's voice, totally caught unawareness. It said something about him that he could look righteously indignant while wearing a silk dressing gown.

"That's not –"

"While I have no choice but to accept your constant psychoanalysing of my own particular personality quirks I can see no justification for your desire to draw my mother into the discussion, or the relationship that we share. You are fortunate she was delayed in her arrival as that has spared you the scathing lecture with which she would favour you."

Wordlessly, Vin reached into his pocket and passed over the flattened out note they had found. Ezra went pale, whether from shock or outrage was impossible to determine, but likely both. His body went rigid and eyes narrowed. For one of the few times in his life, Chris understood what it was like to be on the receiving end of that much highly focused anger.

"It is not enough that you all feel you have the right to march into my home and settle in as if you had been invited. You stare at me while I sleep, deriding me and going to great pains to point out my numerous shortcomings, a task which I am quite certain presented no real challenge to you. But somehow, in addition to that violation you apparently have no compunction when it comes to invading my privacy on a fundamental level, reading correspondence that was clearing never intended for you."

"Now son –"

"I am not your son Mr. Sanchez. I have no relationship with any of you. Certainly not family, and apparently not friend. Having terminated my employment, I am no longer even a colleague. Given that situation I am asking – make that demanding – that you all leave my home immediately. Failure to do so will result in a call to the local police to have you treated as trespassers and, if need be, arrested. I expect you gone by the time I return."

His intention to storm out was blocked by Chris's swift movement.

"Now you listen. We'll leave, but only to give you time to calm down and think about what you really want to do here. In the first place, you didn't quit. You may have tried, but it didn't take. And in the second place, helping out somebody when they are too drunk and stupid to get home on their own is exactly what friends do, and that is all we – specifically Vin – did."

Seizing the opening, Vin interrupted. "And I'm sorry about the letter. You're right, we shouldn't have read it, but we did, and reading that kind of crap about a friend is something you just can't forget - or forgive."

Chris cut in again. "As for the deriding you point, well there you have me stumped. So when everybody is a little less riled up, we'll get to that. In the meantime, you go get yourself put together and dressed. We are all heading out to the ranch for Christmas Eve. Family style."

"Which part of my previous monologue did you fail to comprehend Mr. Larabee? You are not family and I have no desire or intention to spend Christmas eve, or any other night with you."

Chris took a step forward putting him nose to nose with Ezra. The fact the younger man didn't flinch was a either a testament to his nerves or confirmation of the fact he didn't know when to be afraid. "Your plans just changed. You either agree to get your ass out there by supper tonight or deal with the consequences of screwing around with me."

"Both prospects sound equally appealing. Now, take your leave gentlemen." Ezra sidestepped Chris and disappeared into his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

"Damn fool is going to tear open those wounds again." Nathan muttered, concerned about what further damage Ezra might do to himself in this state.

"If that's all he does, I'll be relieved. You really think it's ok to leave him alone?"

Before Chris could answer Josiah, Vin spoke up. "Yeah. He's pissed, but not stupid." The buzzer from the lobby interrupted whatever he had planned to say next. "Come on. Let's go meet up with Buck and JD and have that breakfast. We'll sort the rest of this out tonight."

"So you think he'll show up?" Nathan asked.

"Bet my next paycheque on it."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

There wasn't any aspirin in what was left of his medicine cabinet to address the pain that was threatening to make his head explode. Not that it mattered: he doubted there was enough aspirin in the city for that matter. Strange, as hangovers were uncommon for him. It wasn't that he didn't drink, often to excess, but the lingering effects rarely seemed to take hold the way they were today. Perhaps the discomfort in his hand was factoring in. Or, more likely, the stress of the last few days, highlighted by the fiasco of the morning.

Sighing none to quietly, he left the bathroom, wastebasket in hand. Having unceremoniously chased the others away, he was left to clean it himself. Which was only fair. He'd managed to collect it all with only one minor additional cut in the process. Testament to how steady his hands could be when he truly put the required effort into it. And this morning, that was a considerable effort. He set the bin down on the kitchen floor to be dealt with later. First, coffee was needed. He wasn't totally surprised to see the full pot waiting for him. What did catch his eye were the three small cellophane packages of extra strength aspirin next to it. From Nathan's first aid kit.

"I don't need your pity or charity." Ezra didn't feel the least bit foolish talking to himself. He'd done so for most of his life, generally still losing most arguments. He picked up the tablets, ready to toss them away, then paused. It had been a simple gesture, leaving these behind. No lecture came with them. No advice or admonishments. Just something to help him get through the next few hours. "It would be both rude and wasteful to reject the act." Tearing a pack open, he swallowed them dry. A moment later, he opened the second one, this time reaching for water to wash them down. He glanced around the kitchen for a moment before his stomach assured him it would not be receptive to any form of breakfast, so he abandoned the thought and headed to the living room.

The blanket had been folded loosely and draped over the pillow. Other than that, there was no sign of the company from the night before. He didn't know when they had tidied but he was relieved to see the job done. He was in no shape to deal with it and had no desire to stare at the reminders of his experience.

"What in the name of all that is holy were they thinking?" He leaned back, carefully resting his still throbbing head against the sofa back. He debated briefly about opening the last pack of pills, but as that would require him to get up again he decided it was wise to give the first batch a bit of time to kick in.

Chris' comment, and his own vague memory, confirmed to him that Vin had been the one to see he got home. Why he didn't just deposit him into a cab and call it a day was a question he couldn't answer. Lord knows, even that was more than he would have expected. The perplexing part in all of this was that they had even gone looking for him. It was the only explanation. But why? Most likely Travis had sent them on the mission. Find the reprobate and get him off the streets before he manages to further embarrass the Agency. Yes, that made sense. Certainly more sense than to think there was any more personal motivation in the actions. Why would they show concern in the afternoon, then spend the evening discussing what a hinderance he was to the team?

He wished he could recall more of the details, but that part of his blackout was still in hiding. He closed his eyes, trying to bring more of the evening out of the fog. He thought he could picture JD wearing that ridiculous bowler hat of his, but that was impossible. Must have been mixing up images in his mind. Something had been said about gold. Likely disparaging his dental affectation. He had long suspected they thought the gold tooth was too flashy to be respectable. Too bad – he liked it. Gave him a distinctive flare.

The one thing he was certain of, they all agreed he didn't fit in with their little band of brothers. And he suspected they were right. More than suspected. Mother had hit the nail squarely on the head in her succinct and brutal missive. He was out of his league. This noble experiment, a venture into respectability, was decidedly not the appropriate choice for a Standish.

Undoubtedly that was going to be the proclamation delivered this evening. Chris, and the others, would make it clear that despite the fact his resignation had, apparently, been rejected, his presence on the team was no longer wanted. Why they couldn't have said that before leaving this morning puzzle him, but perhaps they wanted to be sure he was sober enough to understand the message.

He leaned forward in his seat, reaching for the bottle of water in the hopes it would wash away the unexpected lump in his throat. It was mindboggling to him that the notion he was going to be dismissed from the assemblage bothered him as much as it did. It certainly wasn't the first time he was going to be shown the door, and told to make sure it didn't hit him on the way out.

So, why was this different? Why did it bother him this time around, when clearly they didn't feel the same?

The only thing that made any kind of sense, and it was a stretch to make that claim, was that he knew this had basically been his last chance. He had been damned lucky to be taken on by anyone after the FBI debacle, and he had come so close to blowing it on the very first job that it was nothing short of a miracle he'd been given another chance. And even though he had done nothing to warrant the questioning on this case, it looked like once again that wasn't going to matter. He was effectively done. Not just at the ATF, but in law enforcement. If he did stay at the ATF he would be relegated to some backroom role, far away from anything that held any interest for him. A career as a paper pusher was hardly a desirable future. Outside the Agency, maybe some remote outpost in Alaska, or a small town in the middle of nowhere might give him a chance, but even that was a longshot. And he knew he would never survive the environment. He lived for the challenge. The risk, the gambles, the adrenaline rush. It was what got him out of bed each morning, and much earlier than any of the others suspected. That was over now. Done with because – well, he really couldn't say why. Because, he supposed, he had been too afraid to make the commitment he needed to. Too certain that he was fated to not get that chance to fit into the world where he knew he belonged.

"Screw them." He knew the team would be surprised to hear that. They would be expecting something with more panache. More style and elegance. Well, too bad. He simply didn't have the energy to make even that effort, let alone the drive out to the ranch. He'd only been there a couple of times, spending far less time there than the rest of the men did. True, he'd been invited, but in his heart he knew it was just a courtesy being extended. They didn't want him there any more than they wanted him on the team. Up to now, they'd simply been too decent and civilized to say it to his face. Behind his back was assuredly another story.

"Screw them all." He wasn't going to give them that chance. Larabee might be able to order him around on the job, but this was not office hours. He didn't have to go out there, and wasn't about to. Granted, he had nothing better to do on Christmas Eve, but that didn't change his plan. They would not have the satisfaction of telling him where to go. He would make that call, just as he had done with those jackasses yesterday. Who were they to refuse his resignation anyway? And what gave Larabee, Tanner and the rest the right to kick him off the team? He'd quit first. At least quit the team. He could email Travis right now and demand a transfer, or tender a formal resignation that they would have to accept.

Now that was a plan worthy of a Standish. When confronted with obstacles that one couldn't overtake, turn tail and run. It was a time honoured family trait, and one he had been foolish to try to overcome. He leaned back, grinning. Yes, just as soon as this headache faded a bit more, he would get off his ass and send that email. Then head out an tell his so called teammates exactly what he thought of them.

The grin faded. It was a plan. A perfectly good plan. So why did it feel so wrong?

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"So, entertain me while we clean up some here. Tell me why you are so sure he's gonna show up?"

Chris tossed a towel at Vin, pointing at the stack of dishes drying on the sink.

"Because he needs to. He may not even know why himself, but he knows he needs to be a part of this team."

"Got a strange way of showing that."

Vin just shrugged. The two men worked away in silence for a couple of minutes. Chris hadn't been planning on hosting any kind of gathering tonight, and the impromptu dinner plan meant the rest of the team was running around trying to get what was needed. Josiah was off getting food. The stores were likely going to be crazed with last minute shoppers, and he was the only one with patience to deal with that. Well, Nathan could have done it, but he was too busy trying to explain to his fiancé why he wouldn't be spending Christmas Eve with her. He would have preferred the crowds. Buck and JD had been put in charge of beer and snacks, which was the best way Chris knew to ensure they wouldn't run short on either. There would probably be enough left over for New Year's eve and all of the football the next day.

He had deliberately kept Vin at the ranch. It was obvious he'd seen something in Ezra to inspire the confidence he was expressing, and Chris had a feeling he'd be more willing to talk without an audience. He knew the quiet man well enough to know he was going to have to give him time to be ready to speak, but he wasn't going to give him too much more.

In return, Vin understood exactly why he was there. It didn't take a genius to know that Chris wanted answers, and he wasn't averse to sharing them. He just wasn't sure if he had figured out how to put it into words.

"The thing about Ezra," he finally began, "is that he doesn't really understand who he is. He's got no confidence on that score."

That earned a look of disbelief. "Of all the things Ezra Standish may be lacking, confidence doesn't make the list."

"Oh sure, he's cocky, and arrogant and any one of a dozen other words we've used in the last few months to describe him. Or curse him out. But that's a show Chris. That's on the surface."

"Hell of a good show he's putting on."

Vin nodded. "It's what makes him so good at the job. He's a chameleon. Changes himself to be whatever is needed, and in doing so, keeps anything real buried so far down nobody can see it. Not even him."

He'd never thought of the undercover job in those terms, but had to admit Vin was right. Going into things the way Ezra did on a regular basis had to mess with his sense of who he was. And thinking on the letter from Maude, he had to concede that Vin might well have a point. If that was an example of the family support he got, it was a sad state.

Putting down the towel, Vin turned his full attention to Chris. This next part could get awkward. "Chris, you're going to need to pack away that temper of yours for the night."

Denying its existent was foolish. "You think I'm going to be the problem here?" Chris really didn't know why he asked. He was expecting the same thing himself. Assuming Ezra showed up, and he was far less sure of that fact than Vin seemed to be, he was going to be there because he'd been fundamentally ordered and not out of any sense of holiday cheer. A confrontation was inevitable.

"No, I think Ezra is the going to be the problem. You are just going to be the match to his fuse. And I guarantee you, he will be baiting you."

Chris pushed himself away from the counter he'd been resting against, folding his arms in front of him. Fight mode engaged. "If he really wants to leave, I'm not about to stand in his way. Too dangerous, for everyone."

"Temper kicking up already?" Vin smile slightly to try to lessen the tension a notch. "Truth here is Chris, I don't believe he wants to leave. He wants – makes that needs – to stay. To finally fit in. But he doesn't think he can, or ever will."

It took a moment, but the lightbulb finally went on for Chris. "Speaking from experience, aren't you? Foster homes?"

There was a long minute of silence. Vin gazed out the window over the back pastures as he began to speak softly. "When you learn to think you aren't going to be welcomed in anywhere, really welcomed in, you start figuring out ways to make it hurt less when you leave. You build up the walls. The barriers that you hope will protect you a bit. Then you start looking for the small victories. Getting the upper hand on things, winning a fight. Biggest one of all is to walk away before they kick you out."

"Like I said Vin, he can walk away anytime."

Turning back, Chris could see the sad smile on Vin's face, and the expression that clearly said 'you don't get it'.

"That's the irony in all of this Chris. He can't. Something inside is too desperately seeking the approval to allow him to quit. But the more he wants to stay, the more he pushes to leave. He figures it is coming anyway and he is going to do what it takes to make sure it doesn't destroy him when it happens. That means pushing you, all of us, into making the call for him. Trust me, the process is tearing him apart, and it will break him eventually."

"So, how come you changed?"

That was an easy answer and face softened with fondness as he remembered. "The right foster mom - Nettie. She saw through the act the moment I started acting up. I knew hers was the place for me, and she found a way to let me know she was on board with that. Took some time, and even once I accepted it, there were moments that pushed that trust, on both sides. But it was the best thing that ever happened to me. At least, right up to the time I fell in with this bunch of lunatics."

"So now you figure it's your turn to play that role."

"Can't do it alone. If we are going to break through all those years of walls and convince him that he belongs here, and we want him, everybody has to be on board with this."

"Kind of an intervention?" They both turned, surprised by Josiah's comment. Both had been to focused on the discussion to hear Josiah's battered vehicle approach. "We need to talk to everyone before our boy gets here in that case."

Despite the fact he agreed with Vin's analysis, Chris still wasn't convinced Ezra was going to show. "Don't you mean if he gets here?"

"No – Vin has got this right. I didn't hear everything, but what he just said so obvious now I'm embarrassed I never saw it. Ezra needs to be convinced this is his home now, and we have to do it soon, or we will lose him."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

It was officially night now. The dusk had turned to dark and Buck could no longer make out anything more than the passing headlights on the few vehicles that travelled down the road that passed Chris' ranch. None of them were slowing to turn in, not that he had been expecting to see that. They were six for dinner tonight. He was as sure of that as he'd been of just about anything in his life.

They were six for the team now as well if his assumptions were correct. The way he had if figured, Ezra had already sent in written notice confirming the "I quit" scenario that had gone down earlier. (_Was that really only this morning_? he wondered to himself.) And Travis and company really had no choice but to accept it. It wasn't like they could force him to come in a do the job. Especially his job.

The notion of a team without the charming southerner left him feeling a bit ambivalent. He hadn't really warmed to the man that much. Something just under the surface left him uncertain of how reliable a colleague they had. Rumors were just that, unsubstantiated bits of information filtered through God knew how many folks with there own agenda. And he knew there were plenty of rumors floating around about him as well, mostly in reference to his romantic life. Although he had started a few of the more interesting ones. All that being said, the issues around Ezra were different – more serious. And Buck was a firm believer in the old smoke and fire cliché, and he didn't want anyone on this team getting burned.

Still, he had to admit, if only to himself, Ezra was kinda fun to have around. Few people could drive Chris to distraction with what appeared to be minimal effort. And his old friend needed to be brought down a notch or two from time to time.

He knew JD was going to be more upset if it was true. The kid liked Standish, maybe a bit more than was good for him. Everybody needed role models, and there was no question the kid tried to model himself after aspects of all the others on the team, generally picking the better qualities. Buck could see trouble ahead if JD decided to take on Ezra's "damn the consequences" approach to dealing with things. While none of them were sticklers for the rules, Standish was a little looser than the rest, and JD was definitely the sort to find himself over his head in record time.

Turning back to look at the rest of the room he did a quick evaluation of the mood. Almost everybody was trying to keep busy and pretend the how to deal with Ezra discussion hadn't really taken place. It might just as well not have, given the fact no conclusions were reached. Yes, they all had a better understanding of what might be going on, having been briefed on the letter from Maude and given a thumbnail sketch of Vin's take on the situation. That didn't help much when it came to dealing with the reality of the situation.

Nathan had summed things up quite efficiently. "We are in a job where you have to have complete faith in the rest of your team. We don't have it in him, and it doesn't seem like he has it in us."

Vin had argued that he did trust Ezra, but a one in six approval wasn't going to cut it.

"He's not one of us Vin, and doesn't want to be. All the talk in the world won't change that."

Vin had shrugged lightly at that point, and moved over to the seat where he still sat waiting. Nathan wisely didn't make a move to mend fences, since he really hadn't said anything wrong, only what he felt.

There had another good half hour of discussion on the matter of which, if any of them, would actually sit Ezra down for a long chat. The was a concerted effort to ensure Chris didn't win that point, and surprising it didn't take to long for him to agree. 'Oil and a lit match' was the phrase JD had used to describe the probable outcome. The final verdict had been to agree to wait and see what Ezra had to say, and to try for figure out exactly what he really meant, and what if anything they could do about it. There wasn't much to be done until that point arrived.

Now, with dinner hour at hand, it was looking like that point would arrive, at least not tonight.

"Hate to say it Vin, but it looks like you called this one wrong."

Buck walked away from the front window and over to where Vin sat quietly watching the fire dance in the stone hearth.

"He'll be here."

"Chris said suppertime, and I don't know about you, but I am long past being ready to eat."

"Getting a might hungry myself." Nathan added. He, like Buck, had long given up on the seventh member of the team showing up. He'd set the table with enough places for all, but would have wagered almost all he owned on one seat remaining empty. He knew he should be more upset by that, and he had to admit it did bother him, but he also knew that there was likely very little anyone could do about it. Ezra Standish was simply a puzzle they had not managed to solve.

JD came from the kitchen, carefully balancing the three bowls he carried to the dining table. "Well, when he does get here, he'll have to settle for left overs. This is all out and ready to eat, so I say it's supper time."

The movement toward the table was arrested by Chris's undeniable counterorder. "It's supper time when I say it is, and it ain't yet. This will all keep a while longer."

Smiling from his station in the kitchen, Josiah slipped the tray of cold meats back into the fridge, pleased with the delay. While 'fashionably late' was a common state for the undercover expert, Josiah was certain in this case there was far deeper reasoning behind the tardiness. But like Vin, he harboured the belief Ezra would appear. Maybe it was more a genuine hope that would happen. They needed him on the team, and not just professionally. More importantly, he was pretty sure that Ezra needed them. Whether that would all somehow work out was another question altogether.

Josiah leaned into the door frame, watching the silent interplay in the room. Vin hadn't moved from his spot. His patience was truly impressive, although one didn't get to be one of the topped ranked snipers in the country without that skill being well honed. Buck and JD were the opposite. Both were anxious, but in manifested differently. The younger man was, as expected, fidgety and bordering on hyper. How that energy contained itself on a stakeout was a mystery none of them had been able to come up with an answer to. Buck, on the other hand, appeared far more relaxed about the waiting, unless you knew the man. Fingers tapped against his leg, his eyes shifting constantly. There was a vigilance about him that let Josiah know that the moment a car entered the long driveway, Buck would be the first to hear it.

It was watching Chris that Josiah found to be the most educational. Much of what he was seeing was not what he'd expected. It was obvious Chris had nothing planned for the holiday. Other than a few cards stacked, but not actually displayed, on the mantel and a small childish ornament hung from there as well, the place gave no indication of the season. Not surprising knowing the personal history there. Chris hadn't celebrated much of anything in recent years, and while no one would call him a sentimentalist, at least not to his face, certain occasions remained much harder for him to cope with. He didn't draw as far back into his shell as he once had, but there was still a lingering grief that time did not heal. Those facts notwithstanding, he had instantly abandoned his time of solitary reflection to rally the troops around one of there own, even if the recipient was less than enthusiastic about the effort. This whole evening, difficult as it was, probably was exactly what Chris needed.

Truth be told, Josiah expected none of the team had much planned in the way of celebrations, at least not for Christmas eve. Nettie had invited them all for dinner on the 25th, and it was likely six of them would show up. Vin always like spending time with the closest thing he'd known to a family, and JD was still sweet on Casey, and any excuse to spend time there was welcomed. As for the rest – well, being alone was alright, but on a day that focused so much on family, not having one made the day go by so much more slowly. Good food and company helped chase that loneliness away to a degree.

Josiah imagined that feeling was a part of what was pushing Ezra to the edge. Despite being the only one of the team who actually still had a parent (possibly two, as he had yet to even mention his father), there was little family bonding happening there. Not connecting with whatever family you have was even more poignant at this time. Josiah's own heart ached that he simply did not have a strong connection with his own sister, but her mental state removed that from his reality.

The clock ticked by, accentuating the silence of the group. JD's fidgeting got worse, to the point Buck was giving serious thought to tying him into a chair. A bit of roping would certainly prove distracting for at least a few minutes, but he doubted the others would support the action. Well, maybe Chris would based on the scowl on his face.

With a final frustrated glance at the clock on the wall, Chris sighed loudly. "Fine JD. Put the rest of the food out. Don't want Buck passing out from malnutrition."

"With this spread he's likely to anyway. Deep fried zucchini and salsas do NOT qualify as healthy vegetables." Nathan shook his head as he jumped up to help with the serving. "This is not a lean meat on this platter. And you do know there are salads out there whose main ingredient is not mayonnaise?" he aimed his questions at Josiah as he stuck a spoon into the potato salad, macaroni salad and egg salad bowls.

"Relax mother. There is Caesar salad coming."

"Sure, with enough dressing on it to drown those poor defenceless croutons."

Buck grinned. "Not to mention all the cheese and bacon!"

The joking continue as more meat, buns, chips and condiments were added to the spread until eventually everything was ready.

"You joining us Vin?" Chris's voice was soft, almost apologetic. He really wished he'd been wrong about all of this.

"Be rude to start eating before everyone is here."

"Everyone is."

The two men held each other's stare for a good 30 seconds before Vin looked away. A moment later he stood, but instead of the going to the table he made his way to the door. An instant before he was going to speak, Chris saw the headlights of a vehicle coming up the driveway. It was to dark to make out the model, but it was clear they weren't from a Jag. The room went deathly still when the police car stopped at the foot of the walkway.

"Stay here." Chris headed out, fully aware that not one of the team had listened to his command, and not really caring.

"Help you officer?"

"Good evening sir. Would you be Chris Larabee?" Getting a terse nod, he continued. "Yes, well, we have you as the emergency contact name for Ezra Standish."

"Shit." Vin's utterance was soft, but was enough to be heard and the cop turned his attention for a moment before looking back to Chris.

"I'm sorry to tell you this sir, but there has been an automobile accident involving Mr. Standish and another vehicle. I'm afraid it appears to be quite serious."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	8. Chapter 8

"Just what do you mean by serious?" Chris was pretty sure he knew the answer but wasn't taking any chances. He stopped himself from turning to look at his men, knowing what he'd see and not certain he could handle dealing with that right now.

"I don't have too much information sir. Only that I was told to come out here to notify you and offer any assistance you might need." Keeping himself calm was more of a challenge that the young man had expected. It was one of the first such notifications he'd had to do and addressing the news to Chris Larabee was not making it easier. Having 5 other men glaring at him as he spoke didn't help matters. He'd never had occasion to meet these men, but anyone in law enforcement knew their reputation.

"What happened?" Buck had found his voice and wanted answers. The tone of his question clearly indicated he expected details.

"As I said sir, I really have no further information I can share at this point –"

"Bullshit. You know something, and we need to know it too."

"Quiet Buck. He's just doing his job." Vin looked back at the uniformed officer. "I don't know if you are aware of who we are. All of us are ATF, as is the man you're telling us about. More than a few people would be pleased to see him dead, and if there is any chance this was more than just an accident, we need to know."

"Yes sir, I know who you are, and who Mr. Standish is. I really don't know anything more than what I've told you." He looked at the solemn faces staring him down. "I can tell you that at least one of the people in the accident was airlifted to the hospital, and another needed the jaws of life to be freed from the vehicle." He hesitated, certain he should not be sharing the next piece of information yet knowing he would be. "I can also say that from the preliminary reports, it appears alcohol was involved."

That brought a slew of responses. "Son of a bitch." "I can't believe it." "Should have seen that coming." Vin's voice stood out. "He's not that stupid Chris."

The comment brought them all up, and Chris broke his own silence. "He was that upset. That angry."

JD was siding with Vin on this argument. "No. No way. No way someone as smart and together as Ezra is makes that kind of dumbass decision. Hell Chris, he locks his keys in the drawer when we've gone out for a beer at lunch. He's got a cab on speed dial – I know, I put it in for him."

Moving to the front of the group, Josiah tried to bring attention back to where it needed to be. "I said I can't believe it, and I mean that. But right now, it doesn't matter. We need to get to where we are needed. I'll stay here with Nathan and clean up. The rest of you should get your asses in gear and get to the hospital."

"Right. Vin, you're with me." He turned back to the patiently waiting officer. "I'm assuming he's at University?" After getting a nod, he followed up his question. "Where was the accident, and who's in charge there?"

"Lincoln Ave, near Jordan." Chris cursed softly. That wasn't all that far from the ranch. "Sgt. Peters is our accident investigator at the scene."

"Buck, you and JD head there and see if there is anything that seems off. Then join us." Neither man was happy about being shuffled aside, but knew when to follow orders, and this was just such a time.

Nothing more was said as they men grabbed keys and coats and set off. Josiah and Nathan set about getting things back in order at the house. After a few moments, Nathan couldn't take the silence. "Why?"

"Why what? Why are we cleaning up? Because if the news is good we are going to want to come back out here and have a bit of a celebration. And if, God forbid, it's bad, we're going to be needing the sustenance over the next few days."

"I get that. Why did you want me to stay behind? You could have done this on your own just as easily."

Josiah leaned back on the counter, tossing his cloth into the sink as he did. "Well, I could say it was for the company, or so that I wouldn't have to drive alone back to town to the hospital. But then you'd ask me if there was more to it, and I'd have to say yes. Why were you so ready to accept Ezra is to blame in this? Why should you have seen it coming?"

"You saw how drunk he got yesterday. How upset he was about everything this morning. Besides, from what you said, you didn't seem totally shocked by the idea."

"I said I couldn't believe it."

"In a tone that implied you didn't want to, not that you couldn't."

He hated to acknowledge the truth of the statement. "Yes, I had a moment of doubt, and I will allow that shock played a role, as did my own personal failings. But my gut tells me otherwise, and there is the little matter of proof. But I'd still like to get back to the reasoning for your comment. You seemed, and still seem, sure of your assessment."

Not being entirely sure how to answer, Nathan stalled, going to the closet for his coat. Yes, his first instinct was to accept the blame lay squarely at Ezra's feet. It was an easy answer, and as he thought that, he realized that was the problem. It was always easy to place blame there, mostly because the man didn't challenge it. Even though, time and time again, the evidence ended up giving them a different solution. Maybe it was time to consider that 'innocent until proven guilty' applied to Ezra as well.

"Blame it on a gut reaction and a mindset that needs some attitude adjustment. For now, let's get out there. We should be together for – well, whatever happens."

Smiling for the first time, Josiah joined him as they made their way to join the team.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

JD had been quiet since he climbed back into the passenger seat of the car, looking more than a little green. The sight of the crumpled Jag was enough to make anyone feel sick and knowing Ezra had been inside was tearing him apart. It was still on the road, now at the far side of the intersection, turned 180 degrees from the direction he would have been driving on his way to Chris's. The pick-up truck that had hit it remained in the centre of the cross-road with the front end smashed. The Jag had been T-boned, the passenger side caved in. One tire lay several feet down the road, torn off from the impact. The windshield was gone. Removed, according to Sgt. Peters, by the rescue squad trying to get Ezra freed.

"Didn't see the process myself. I only got out here after the ambulances had left."

He'd spoken to Buck the whole time as JD stood mutely staring.

"Any idea what happened?"

"Too early yet. I've only just started looking over the scene. Haven't even talked to the witnesses yet. I understand you are worried about your friend, but I can't tell you what I don't know. I will keep you guys as much in the loop on this as I can, but right now, I think you'll be doing more good at the hospital than here."

Looking over at the damage, Buck had to wonder what kind of help they could be anywhere. He did know that getting JD out of there was a good idea, and he wasn't any to anxious to hang around either. So the two men offered their thanks and left.

"Kid, if you're gonna be sick, try to give me enough notice to pull over."

"Not gonna puke Buck." He took a deep breath to try to calm himself and make sure his stomach didn't make a liar of him. "I am glad we didn't eat though." A look toward the driver reassured him that he wasn't alone in that thought.

After several blocks in silence JD gathered his nerve. "I feel bad Buck."

"So I do need to stop?"

"Not that way. About the way we treat Ezra sometimes. We were all ready to assume the worst. Not just now, but when the case went south, and well – most of the time."

"He's got a lot of baggage JD, and he doesn't seem any to willing to share the history."

"Why should he though? I mean, nobody ever proved he did anything wrong so why should he spend all of his time proving he didn't."

Buck had been having the same thoughts himself, even before this happened. "Problem with Ezra is that he doesn't seem to want to prove himself. And when someone is always expecting people to think the worst of him, he makes it damned easy for them to do just that. I don't know why he'd be like that, although I'd guess that mother of his has a lot to do with it."

"Yeah, how could she talk to him that way Buck. My ma never would have thought like that, and sure wouldn't be saying it even if she did."

With a grin, Buck nodded. "You got one of the good ones there, kid. Guessing Ezra wasn't so lucky."

"Then maybe we should think about giving him the kind of family support he deserves."

Hoping they weren't too late with that, Buck smiled his support, tinged with a good deal of big brotherly pride. "Yeah kid, I think maybe we should."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Staring at a hospital door was as much of a wasted effort as staring at a pot on the stove. Chris found that revelation both useless and frustrating. No one had been able to give him any decent answers. Only that the accident victims had been brought in, and he would be informed as soon as they had some news to share. Excuses of being short staffed on Christmas Eve were of no comfort.

"He's gonna be OK Chris."

"And you know that how?"

Vin shrugged slightly. "Same was I knew he was coming to the ranch."

"And if he hadn't been, none of this would have happened. If I hadn't pushed him – forced him…"

Guilt. The last thing any of them needed right now. "You didn't force him Chris. Push comes to shove I would say nobody is forcing Ezra into doing anything he doesn't want to. And like I said before, Ezra wanted – needed – to come out tonight. It was his call, and he'd be the first to tell you that."

"He's not going to be telling anyone anything."

"You can't know that."

"Yeah, well you have your gut feelings, I have mine. And this one feels like – I don't know. Like we blew it. Like I blew it. Damn him."

Words weren't going to help, so Vin remained quiet. Chris needed to talk this out and didn't need any input to do so. Sure enough, a minute later he continued.

"He didn't have to fight me on everything, every step of the way. Wouldn't have asked him to join the team if I didn't think he was good for it. Why couldn't he see that?" He stood and began pacing, stopping after a bit to look at Vin.

"You really want an answer to that? Because I think you already have it."

"Because nobody's told him that before."

"Yup." The corner of Vin's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "Got it in one. He's used to not being accepted Chris and is ready to turn and bolt at the first sign things are blowing up on him. Likely done that all of his life. The fact he was coming tonight shows he might just be ready to try to change that."

Staring back down the quiet hallway to the examining rooms, Chris's face fell again. "Except he won't get the chance to."

Voices coming through the door stopped Vin from answering. "Any news?" Buck and JD trotted down the hallway. As they approached, the doors opened again with the arrival of the final duo.

"Not yet." Chris took one look at JD and felt his stomach drop. "What did you guys find out."

"That Ezra is going to need a new car when he gets out of here." The forced certainty was wasted as JD undermined Buck's effort to sound positive.

"They don't know what happened, but I can tell you Ezra's car is a write-off. I can't believe they even got him out of if Chris. It's a mess." His voice was wavering at the end of the sentence.

"This is a good hospital. One of the best trauma units around." Nathan hoped he was sounding more confident than he felt.

"And we mustn't forget that Ezra is one stubborn southerner. He is not about to go quietly into the light." Josiah added.

"Ezra Standish doesn't go anywhere quietly." Buck added. "He lives for a good fight, so this is right up his alley. You just wait. Any second now some frustrated intern is going to come through those doors and tell us to come and get the man to shut up long enough to listen to the doctor." They all turned toward the door as if expecting Buck's prophecy to play out. "Any second now."

The doors remained still.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

Not surprisingly, it was JD who noticed the time.

"Merry Christmas everybody."

A couple of the others glanced at their watches. It was 12:20.

Josiah was the only one to respond. "A day for miracles if ever there was one."

Silence fell over the group again as they all settled back into their seats again. The room was fairly quiet, with a few other groups gathered, all looking appropriately concerned. No one spent Christmas eve in the ER if they had any choice in the matter. Chris wondered as he looked around if anybody was here for the other accident victim. He wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

Looking back to his own team he felt a twinge of guilt at being grateful they were all sitting with him. He should order them home to get some rest. Of course, he also knew trying to do so would be a wasted effort, and there had been enough of that going on already. The waiting would be hard, physically and mentally, on all of them, but some even more than others. After spending the previous night on the floor of Ezra's living room, the last thing Vin's bad back needed was a night in a waiting room chair. And Josiah didn't look any more comfortable in his spot. But there wasn't a chance either man would leave until word was received. More than the rest, those two had come closest to making a connection with Ezra that guaranteed their presence. JD was in that camp as well.

Chris cast his glance to his oldest friend in the group. Anyone looking would assume that Buck was sleeping soundly, oblivious to the situation. The truth was, Chris knew, that the first sign of news would have him on his feet and at the ready to offer support to whoever needed it the most. Buck was staying for his friends, and nothing would change that.

The concern on Nathan's face didn't surprise Chris in the least. He might not have been Ezra's biggest supporter, but like Buck, like all of them, this was a time to stick together, and do whatever it took to make it through this. These men were his team, and he was beginning to realize how important the seventh man had become to that picture.

"Damn it Ezra, you better not screw this up for us."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

All heads turned when the door from the exam area opened_. About damn time too_, Chris thought as he stood to ready to approach whoever was finally coming to talk to them. He took one step forward then froze in place. The others were similarly paralyzed in shock.

"You have **got** to be kidding me!" Buck broke the silence first.

"As difficult as it may be to comprehend, that was the exact thought I was having." Ezra responded to him.

Trying to sneak out of the hospital should have been easy for a man with his experience in getting out of uncomfortable situations, and he had little trouble finding the opportune moment to slip past the nurse's desk. The advantage of a quiet evening and distracted staff. The last thing he expected to encounter was anyone in the waiting room. Having six men now blocking his path was an obstacle for which he was completely unprepared.

"What the hell are you doing Standish?"

"Again, a question I feel I should be directing at you."

"We were waiting to find out whether or not you were still alive." JD said, the relief at having the answer evident in his voice.

The shock was beginning to wear off, and the team was making a move toward him. Needless to say, that was the last thing he wanted or needed right now. Getting out of here, getting home where he could deal with all of this on his own terms was his only goal at this point.

"Do tell. What an unexpected response." He wondered fleetingly what outcome they'd been hoping for, then chastised himself for the thought. He may not be a favoured son here, but he did have to admit he knew his death would have caused them at least some concern. "Given that you can all now see for yourself that I have in fact survived the unfortunate events of the evening, perhaps the time has come for you to return to your homes and attempt to salvage what you can of a good night's sleep."

"Unfortunate events? That's what you call all of this? Goddamn it Ezra, I've got half a mind –"

"A fact I have never disputed Mr. Wilmington. But that issue notwithstanding, I would have to state this is neither the time nor locale for the sort of discussion I sense if forthcoming. Perhaps a few days from now, in a more private environment." He made a concerted effort to marshal his waning reserve and head toward the nearest exit. The surge of adrenaline that had enabled him to mount his escape wasn't going to keep him on his feet much longer.

The few cautious steps he took toward the door were being watched far to closely for him to fool anyone, least of all the team's medical expert. "Ezra, what did the doctor's say? Clearly you were hurt."

"Nothing of consequence, I assure you." That would have been so much more convincing without the pain lines that creased his face, the limp that slowed his walk and the obvious caution with which he made even the slightest movement.

"Mr. Standish, where do you think you are going?" Six heads turned at the sound of the doctor's voice. After a moment debating his options, Ezra made a similar move.

"Home, Dr. Romero. You indicated we were done, and I see no reason for me to take up valuable space in your facility under the circumstances."

"No, I indicated the examination and tests were done. The treatment portion of this particular party has only just begun."

Chris closed his eyes with a quick prayer for patience. He knew he was going to need all the help he could get on that front. Before he could speak, Ezra resumed his attempt at escaping the confines of the ER.

"Nonsense. There is nothing wrong with me that a few days of rest and a handful of aspirin won't cure."

The doctor stared in disbelief. "Really? I would love to know where your medical degree came from." His gaze shifted from his exasperating patient to the rest of the team. "Is he always like this?"

With a curt nod of affirmation, Chris finally spoke. "It is comforting to know you choose to ignore everyone, and not just me Standish."

As if to verify the observation, Ezra made no comment on it. Instead, he tried to take another step toward the door, but was encircled by an impenetrable wall. Knowing exactly who he had to deal with for this, he reluctantly turned back to Chris. "Perhaps you can inform your posse that they have no right to prevent me from taking my leave?"

Deciding turn about was fair play, Chris ignored the comment and turned back to the doctor. "Am I allowed to yell at him?"

"Would it do any good?"

"Rarely has in the past, but I live in hope."

Ezra own patience, not to mention his ability to remain standing, was fading quickly. "As you gentlemen seem perfectly capable of caring on this discussion without my presence being require, I think I shall be departing for the night."

Chris's attention snapped back to him. "Freeze Standish."

"Freeze? Do you intend to have me incarcerated Mr. Larabee?"

"If that's what it takes."

Sensing the time had come to try to diffuse some of this, Vin moved forward. "Nobody is trying to do anything but help you Ezra. Make life easier on everybody if you would just let us."

Help was the last thing he was expecting. Anger, disappointment and animosity – yes. Help? Hardly. Not able to convince himself he was really hearing sincerity in the comment, Ezra resorted to his fallback position of detachment.

"I assure you the offer is appreciated with the same enthusiasm with which it is no doubt offered."

"Watch it there Hoss. Vin has been on your side in this mess since things started, so you might want to show a bit of appreciation."

"Easy Buck. I'm sure Ezra wasn't aiming to offend me, or any of us. I'd guess he's just a bit off his game is all. Right?"

None of this was playing out the way he had in mind. He just wanted to go home and sleep away the next few days. Surely no one could object to that. "I am not off anything, although I will concede to running dangerously low on patience at this juncture. Since the good doctor has indicated my injuries were insignificant I see no reason to prolong this exercise in futility." His half step forward was effectively halted by Josiah's hand being lightly placed on his chest, which resulted in a poorly disguised wince.

Enough was enough, and Dr. Romero was putting an end to this now. "I'm pretty sure I didn't say anything about insignificant. What I did say is that it was nothing short of a miracle you weren't more seriously injured. You have several cracked ribs, a cracked clavicle, and a hairline skull fracture. There are multiple deep contusions which indicate bruising to your kidneys and liver as well. Then there re is the matter of severely sprained right wrist, not to mention the tendon and muscle damage to your knee and ankle. You're only walking on it now because your leg has been so numbed with freezing that you have no idea how much pain you are in. And that was because we couldn't give you pain killers due to your concussion. I could go on, but I think you get the general idea. So, no Mr. Standish, I am not done with you. I am far from being done with you."

Halfway through the monologue JD had stepped away to find a wheelchair, and now brought it up behind Ezra. "Might as well have a seat Ezra. No chance in hell we are letting you do anything else."

"I assure you all, this is most unnecessary." It was going to be impossible to convince any of them of that fact if he fell flat on his face, and he was fairly certain if he didn't get out of there soon, that would be the next humiliation he had to deal with. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone?

Tired of arguing, Dr. Romero took a step forward. "I don't know how to make this any clearer to you, but maybe you need the blunt approach. I will stake my medical career on the simple statement that without benefit of that airbag, we wouldn't be having this discussion right now. Your friends here would be identifying your body in the morgue. You are one incredibly lucky son of a bitch Mr. Standish, and it would be nothing short of abject stupidity for you to leave this hospital in the shape you are in right now. Would it kill you? Probably not. But without those injuries being dealt with promptly and properly you will likely spend the rest of your life in chronic pain. If that sounds like something you want, by all means feel free to sign the paperwork and go home. Otherwise, get your ass in that chair and let me do my job."

"I had no idea you had a relative in the medical profession Mr. Larabee."

Chris said nothing, knowing if he did they would be words he could never take back. What he'd just heard confirmed his worst fears. The fears they had all had about what had happened, and what still might. He balled his fists, forcing himself to keep his temper under control. He stared unwaveringly at his agent, who returned the gaze with less hostility, but every bit as much determination.

With a deeply felt sigh of exasperation Josiah stepped between the antagonists. "Back off Chris. Much as you might like to, you can't order a man to stop being a jackass." The comment resulted in the beginning of a celebratory smirk on Ezra's face until he registered the insult. "As for you Ezra, stubborn as you are, and I will concede God provided you with an excessive amount of that particular trait, you are not foolish enough to fail to recognize the depths of the predicament you are in at the moment."

"Are you certain of that Mr. Sanchez? We jackasses are not known for our ability to reach logical and reasoned conclusions."

Little force was required to propel Ezra into the waiting wheelchair, and JD had positioned it to insure a soft landing. Aside from a heated look that could have melted an iceberg, Ezra didn't respond. He was fading quickly, and recognized the complete ineffectuality of the act.

"Room 289 has been set up for him." The doctor smiled at JD as he wheeled the reluctant invalid to his waiting bed, then turned to the others. "I advise against any visitors for the night."

"One of us doesn't stay, you won't have a patient in the morning." Chris had no question in his mind of that. He couldn't begin to understand what had driven the fool to try to walk out of there in the first place.

Romero was shaking his head. "I have to admit you may have a point there. He shouldn't have even been able to stand up now. He's messed up that ankle pretty bad, and the knee isn't much better. Walking like this will only have exacerbated the problems. If it had been the other fellow trying to leave it would have made a lot more sense."

"The second driver?" This may be the first good news they'd heard in a while. "You're treating him too?"

"Yes. I'm sorry, I can't really discuss that with you Mr. Larabee."

Knowing it wasn't exactly playing by the rules, Chris reached into his pocket and showed his badge. "Anything that factors into how a federal law enforcement agent gets hurt is most assuredly my concern doctor. What can you tell me?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Romero muttered something about never catching a break before he spoke. "Without offering any specifics I will say that what happened to your friend would appear to be entirely the fault of the other driver. And I will add that there was no alcohol in Mr. Standish's blood. I assume that was your concern?"

"One of them." Chris could feel the relief coming from the others like a wave. He could only assume that would immediately be followed by the same guilt he was feeling for doubting Ezra's innocence. Why was it that was so easy for them all to do?

"Look gentlemen. It has been a long night, and it isn't close to being over for me. If you are going to stay, I'm going to insist that it be no more than two of you. One would be better. Once I get Mr. Standish patched up and then settled he will need to get some rest. From the looks of you, you all need the same."

He left without waiting for a response.

"Go home Chris. And take Vin and Nathan with you. Buck, you'll have to wait for JD to get back before you head home."

"Just what makes you think you are the one to stay Josiah?"

"Because out of all of us, I'm the one least likely to want to try to kill him."

"No, Vin has that title. You are a close second. And I am not killing anyone – yet."

Buck took Chris by the arm and started to walk him out. "You do know it is that 'yet' part that is causing the concern here?"

Chris pulled free and stopped. He was about to remind them all who was in charge here when he got a good look at them. Everyone was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally drained. He could only assume he looked just as bad. Then he smiled. He actually had to fight to keep himself from laughing. Ezra may not consider himself to be part of this ragtag team and would use his last breath to make that fact understood, but that didn't matter. One look at those faces told Chris there was no longer any doubt that the rogue agent was part of the family, and if it took them until next Christmas, they were going to find a way to convince him of that.

"Josiah and I are staying. The rest of you get a few hours of sleep then get your asses back here. Standish is going to have a family Christmas with us, whether he wants it or not."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	10. Chapter 10

Comfort was out of the question. At this point, he would settle for a tolerable pain level, but that seemed too much to hope for as well. Knowing that he had only himself to blame for the current predicament did not make the situation any easier to accept. What the hell had he been thinking?

"Imbecile." He continued to mutter to himself as he shifted for what felt like the 1000th time, knowing the effort was a waste of his limited energy. As was to be expected, Dr. Romero had been completely accurate in predicting the outcome of his pointless escape attempt. Setting aside the pounding headache (would that he could!), he was dealing with more aches and pains that he could have imagined. There was scarcely a spot on him that wasn't taking exception with the slightest change in activity. His right leg was wrapped in layers of support bandaging, his arm was in a sling in a useless attempt to relieve the pressure on his shoulder, and his neck was wrapped in a brace served the dual purpose of restricting movement and making it impossible to rest.

Waking in pain had been nothing compared to the shock of seeing Chris Larabee's boots propped up on the end of his bed. The man himself was slumped in a seat close enough to allow his legs to stretch to that resting place. The memory of all that had happened, from the drive to the ranch right through to the scene in the ER waiting room flooded back to him, and he quickly closed his eyes again, hoping that his conscious state had gone unnoticed. Josiah's voice coming from the other side of the room had squelched that.

"Don't worry Ezra. You don't have to talk if you don't feel up to it. We're just here in case you need anything."

"Solitude."

Chris lifted his head slowly. "Anything but that. Not giving you the chance to wander off."

"I rarely make the same error in judgement twice Mr. Larabee. I can assure you I will not be repeating last night's misadventure again." _No matter how badly I want to._

He watched as Chris sized him up. "Seriously Gentlemen. I give you my word I will follow the instructions of Dr. Romero to the letter. Please, go home. Enjoy your holiday and spare me the intended lectures for some other date. I am in no position to fully appreciate the vitriol at this point."

A theoretically covert look from Josiah cut off any response. Chris looked at Ezra again, seeing the complete surrender on his face. It was something he'd never seen before, and he didn't care for it.

"You rest. We'll be back." Josiah had patted him gently on the arm before leaving, waiting at the door for Chris to follow.

Now, hours later, Ezra carefully tried to reach for his glass of water while continuing his self directed diatribe. "Of all the addle-brained, oligophrenic, cretinous, goober-brained moves you have made Standish, yesterday tops the list."

"Did I seriously just hear Ezra Standish say 'goober-brained'? Never thought I would live to see the day!"

"My deterioration in language skills clearly traces to the excessive amount of time I have spent in the company of the unschooled masses Mr. Wilmington."

"Now Ezra, you wouldn't be calling us stupid, after what you were just saying about yourself?"

Well, this was getting off to a perfect start. Ezra's defenses were up and fully engaged before the entire team had even made it through the door. Even though it was too late to be effective, Vin tried offering the more customary greeting for the day.

"Merry Christmas Ezra. Not exactly how I imagine you planned on spending the day."

"An astute observation." He had been expecting something like this, although not a full frontal attack. After the last 48 hours, the inevitability of a final confrontation was something he had resigned himself to. After being left in peace and quiet for the morning, he'd allowed for the faint hope they would grant him some time to recover from everything. He did agree with the conclusion that obviously had been reached: no time like the present.

His assumptions were confounded by the array of bags and coolers being carried into the small room. Seeing the evident confusion, Nathan offered the explanation.

"Since you can't come to Christmas dinner, we figured we'd bring it to you."

"Technically, you'd have to say this was Christmas Eve dinner," JD corrected. "But since we got a bit distracted last night…" he faded off, realizing what he was saying.

"Yes, I can see where that might have inconvenienced you all. My apologies."

"That's not what I meant Ezra."

JD's apology was cut off before it could go further. Chris wasn't putting up with this game for the day.

"OK, that's it. This all started with you drinking and feeling sorry for yourself and I want to get that crap dealt with now."

Buck had been expecting this, although not quite so fast. "Way to control your temper there Grinch."

"Ezra, you ok?" Vin's attention was riveted to Ezra, who had gone pale at Chris's words. "Ezra?"

"No. I may have been foolish when I left the offices, but I assure you Mr. Larabee, all of you, I was not been drinking before making my way to your home. The alcohol in the vehicle was intended as gift. I was not –"

"Steady Pard. Slow down. We know that. We never for a minute thought that." There was no reason for Ezra to ever know a few had had moments of suspicion.

"I heard – I remember the medics saying they could smell the wine. And that only a fool drives drunk. I assumed…" He had assumed the worst, as he was used to.

Bits of information, disjointed in his mind because of the accident, had been haunting him most of the day. He was sure his drunken encounter with the team was well before the accident, but the details of the last 48 hours were still a jumble to him.

"Even if there had been any questions from the authorities they were erased by your blood tests." Vin's words slowly sunk in, and Ezra's flash of panic began to subside. Josiah tried to finish the job.

"As for the medics, I'm guessing they were talking about the other guy, who was drunk as the proverbial skunk. The witness confirmed he ran straight through the stop sign and into your car. You have none on the blame here son. None."

Waiting a moment for the situation to settle Chris took the time to try to get his thoughts in order. He'd convinced himself he'd let Ezra have the day free of any talk about the problems they'd been dealing with, but that scene had proven to him not only that there was no point, but that it was probable that they didn't have the luxury of time on their side. Ezra was on the edge, and if he chose to jump in the wrong direction, they'd lose him.

"Since the issue of blame has been raised, there is one more thing that needs to be made crystal clear. I don't know what happened to screw up the St. Claire case, but since it seems like it needs to be put on the record, I do know that it wasn't your fault."

"Mr. –" Ezra stopped his defense before he could even start it. "It wasn't?"

JD gave the confidence boosting response. "Of course not. What idiot would say it was?"

"A good number of idiots seemed quite certain of my culpability, and all of them rank as our superiors and are in a position to act upon just such a supposition."

"So you quit to keep them from firing you? A bit counterproductive, wouldn't you say?"

"I prefer to think of it as denying them the satisfaction Mr. Jackson."

"Well," Chris's tone told them all he was taking control of the discussion back, "I prefer to make them prove their case, and since there isn't a chance in hell they could do that, I prefer it that my men don't walk out on me, or on the team."

"How can I walk out on something I am not a part of? When not wanted, I find it generally advantageous to beat a hasty retreat."

Chris's temper flared again, and this time he wasn't alone. Buck was the first to react. "What the hell do you mean not wanted? And what is with all this Mister crap again? Thought we were done with that."

Nathan took a step closer. "You really don't believe you are part of this team Ezra? That we weren't all scared shitless last night that we were going to lose you?"

This wasn't happening. Not now, and not here. Ezra couldn't believe the act he was seeing. He couldn't believe they were this good at putting on this kind of show. He'd heard them talking about him. He may have been drunk, but he'd heard them. So why were they denying it now? What possible gain was there in a charade?

He stopped himself. Those were good questions. Why would they be lying to him? The opportunity to remove him from the team had been handed to them on a silver platter, and they seemed to be turning it away. He couldn't begin to understand and looking into the faces that challenged him he couldn't come up with an answer on his own. There was only one thing left to do.

"What are you playing at? Why do you say one thing behind my back, and another to my face?"

"Ezra, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Hang on Buck." Chris didn't know how Ezra had found out about his first reactions to the St. Claire case, but somehow he had, and if that was what was causing the problems it needed to be cleared up. "I'll admit it Ezra. I couldn't figure out what had gone wrong, and the first thing that came into my head was that you had to be involved. But you have to believe me when I say it wasn't that I doubted you. An inadvertent slip, or someone in the gang recognizing you was what I was betting on. You gotta know that if I'd had doubts about you, you never would have been on the team in the first place."

Ezra slowly pushed himself to a sitting posture. "If I may be so presumptuous as to quote Mr. Wilmington – what the hell are you talking about?"

"My reaction when the case went bad. I said stupid things because I was pissed off. What are you talking about?"

"The evening you gentlemen determined my residence was suitable for a Boy Scout jubilee and turned it into an overnight campout. Operating on the assumption I was too far gone to comprehend the discussion you proceed to make it perfectly clear I did not fit into your circle. I believe the term you used repeatedly was misfit."

"I can assure you Ezra no such discussion took place." Josiah couldn't begin to imagine where this was coming from.

Vin was about to add his own objection when laughter from the corner silenced everyone. JD was chuckling softly, trying with no success to rein it in. "I'm sorry Ezra. Really I am. I'm not laughing at you, or at this. I mean, what you're saying is just nuts. But I get it. I really do." He looked at the killer glares aimed his way and quickly sobered. "Ezra, can I ask you something? I know how stupid this is going to sound, but by any remote chance, were any of us singing?"

Chris threw his hands in the air. It was bad enough to have one agent in his command who apparently had gone of the deep end, but to watch JD jumping in after him was more than he could handle. It just got worse when Josiah chuckled as well.

"Of course. Well done JD. Well Ezra?"

Perhaps being asked to leave this group wasn't the worst thing in the world, since they had obviously lost touch with reality. "I do believe I would recall an orchestral accompaniment."

"Nothing that fancy Ez. More like this." He began humming, and as the light went on for the others, Buck and Josiah joined in. Ezra stared at them all while feeling around with his left hand for the button to page the nurse. He had just found it when the familiarity of the chorus struck him.

"What, pray tell, are you gentlemen doing?"

"It's the Misfit song from Rudolph Ezra. That's what we were watching. That's what you heard."

"Rudolph? Precisely who is Rudolph?"

JD took the song cue and started at the beginning of the song, but Chris quickly cut that off. "The kid's Christmas show Ezra. The song was from that."

"I am supposed to believe that you men were sitting watching a children's show about singing misfits?"

That stopped them all. "You can't be telling us you don't know Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer Ezra?" Even with his own less than typical childhood, Vin had always had his favourite Christmas shows and movies to look forward to each year, harbouring a particular fondness for Charlie Brown.

"It's one of the classics Ezra. Like Grinch, or Scrooge."

"Miracle on 34th Street? Wonderful Life?" Nathan added to JD's list.

Every new title brought an equally confused stare. Yes, he'd heard of these titles, these characters. But the notion that he was to believe that was how six ATF agents had spent their evening was beyond ludicrous.

"You all expect me to accept a scenario that has you watching children's Christmas nonsense rather than –" he paused, uncertain how to end the thought.

Buck finished it for him. "Rather than believe we were all sitting around ridiculing a member of our team who was obviously hurting and needed us there, whether he liked that fact of not? Yeah. That is exactly what we expect you to believe. Because that was what was happening."

"Evidently, you assume that simply because there had been a mild head injury, I am now gullible enough to believe even this most preposterous of explanations."

Deciding this had gone on long enough, Chris stepped as close to the bed as he dared, staying far enough back to resist the temptation to reach out and strangle the man. "Listen Ezra, because I am only going to say this once. No, we were not trashing you behind your back, or to your face. And I can guaran-damn-tee you that if we had, we wouldn't have been singing. Yes, we have issues that need to be worked out here. And **all** of us take on some of the blame for that. All – including you, but not just you. But here is the main headline Ezra. We – each and every one of us want you on this team. It wasn't easy for me to find a damn good operative who also happens to be crazy enough to fit in – and I choose those words deliberately – with this band of reprobates. Now that I did, you ain't walking away." He paused long enough to take a deep breath. "OK. That's it. You can join us for some lunch here or sit quietly and mull all of this over, but we are not leaving until we are satisfied you are on board." He turned away. "Buck, fix me a damn sandwich."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

_tbc_


	11. Chapter 11

A myriad of responses leapt to Ezra's mind and the temptation to let loose with some or all was almost too much to resist. But some voice whispering in the furthest corners of his subconscious convinced him to do the unexpected and keep his mouth shut until he had reasoned this through. He rested his head back on the pillow and tried to find some position that would allow at least the illusion of comfort.

They wanted him on the team? It was a concept almost impossible to fathom, yet apparently true. No one had spoken in opposition to the statement, and he'd actually seen most of them nodding their support. Vin and Josiah had even been smiling as they did.

It was a strange feeling for him and one he was fairly certain he hadn't experienced in some time, if ever. Certainly not at the FBI, and so rarely in his earlier life that the occasions weren't worthy of mention. The issue now was to decided if he could he trust this to be true. The voice of experience was screaming at him, telling him this was all just wishful thinking – the fantasy of a child who wanted to belong somewhere. Anywhere.

Ezra had survived this long by truly trusting in very few things, but that voice had always been one of them. It had shouted warnings to him on an almost daily basis. Protect yourself. Don't be fooled. Don't be a sucker. He had always presumed that voice was a reflection of the finally tuned instincts that were long engrained in him. But now, those same instincts were trying to drown out the voice. His gut was telling him this time, for the first time, things were different.

Without giving any indication he was observing them, Ezra checked the men surrounding him out. They sat or milled about quietly going about fixing lunch, appearing to not have the slightest concern about what had just been said. As if they all fully expected him to give the answer Chris was demanding. They probably did.

Not a word was spoken by anyone. JD put a plate within reach of Ezra's uninjured hand, offering what he hoped was an encourage smile as he did. His intention to speak was temporarily stifled by the Chris' glowering, but as the silence became oppressive he decided to risk it.

"Ezra, what you said about not knowing Rudolph – you were kidding, right?"

The question knocked him out of his contemplative state while taking him by surprise.

"No Mr. Dunne. I was in deadly earnest. While I certainly have heard of the character – it is impossible to avoid the assorted noise that passes for music in the malls and public venues at this time of year – I am blissfully ignorant of the attendant story."

"And the other ones we asked about? Didn't you watch any Christmas shows when you were a kid?"

Ezra looked at the earnest concern the young man seemed to have over what he clearly saw as a serious lapse in Ezra's life experience.

"Suffice to say Mother did not favour sentimentality at the holidays, or any other time. Energy and efforts were focused on more –" oh hell, he might as well admit it, since they had seen her letter "- mercenary concerns."

"We have got to get this boy outta here and propped up in front of a TV for a holiday marathon." Josiah chuckled softly at the grimace that resulted from his suggestion.

"Thank you Mr. Sanchez, but I think that is a pleasure I will forego."

Throughout the discussion Chris kept quiet, not wanting to look like he was trying to direct the conversation this time. He was hoping they would get Ezra back to the issue at hand though.

"You didn't answer Buck about why you're back to this 'Mister' business."

"Reflex. Although I would assume with your profiler training and background you would be more inclined to conclude it is a defence mechanism, with a certain degree of passive aggressive behaviour thrown in for good measure."

"Not so sure about the passive." Buck mumbled under his breath, although not nearly quietly enough.

Vin reached over and lightly punched him in the arm. "Nice and subtle approach Buck."

It wasn't the best opening he'd ever had, but Nathan took advantage of Ezra's phrasing to ask his own question.

"So, was it more of your defence mechanisms that had you trying to s –" no, sneak wasn't the best word under the circumstances – "liberate yourself from the hospital?"

"Excellent job of backtracking. And no, it wasn't anything quite so duplicitous."

"Course not Nathan. Ezra's just like the rest of us. Hates hospitals is all."

"It is far more than a dislike of hospitals Mr. Dunne. It is an abject loathing of them. The sounds, the lights, the smell. The overwhelming sense of gloom and sorrow that fills the halls. The deep certainty that the moment you darken those doors you are taking one step closer to the final threshold."

"Um, sure. OK."

Josiah leaned forward in his seat. "I take it you've had some fairly unpleasant experiences in the past."

"Your gift for understatement is impressive. Yes, there have been far too many experiences that resulted in less than ideal outcomes in the past. I choose to avoid providing fate with the opportunity to repeat those moments."

"Picked a strange profession in that case."

His eyes shifted to Buck. "The list of questionable choices I have made in my life would no doubt astound you."

"That include saying yes when I invited you to join up with us?"

Ezra knew Chris would re-enter the discussion eventually, but he hadn't expected it to be with quite so loaded a question. Or one that was so challenging to answer.

When in doubt, or in need of a delaying tactic, deflection was always a good policy. "I could easily turn that around and ask it of you."

"I won't lie to you Ezra. There have been moments when I second guessed the call. Moments when I wondered whether it's all worth it. And I don't doubt that you will give me a few more of those in the future. Certainly most of the rest of these guys have from time to time." He grinned at surprised look on the man's face. "What? You thought you were the only one that ever drove me nuts? Hell, I've known Buck for years. That alone has aged me more than I can say."

"Hey, watch it cowboy! Without me your life would be too dull for words."

"There have been times I'd be willing to take that chance."

The bantering continued, and Ezra welcomed the diversion of attention, even if it was short lived. Sensing he was still being watched, he shifted his attention to Vin, who was indeed sizing him up.

He spoke softly. "You do fit in Ezra. You may not see it yet, but you do."

"Your skills as a mind-reader are both impressive and disturbing."

There was a small shrug in response. "Not to hard to figure it out. Kinda been there myself in the past, so I get it. And you're not totally right when you say it's about trust. That's part of it, and it goes in both directions. Takes time to learn to trust people. Took us a while, and it will take time to get there with you as well, and for you to trust us."

"You believe I don't?"

"Don't think you'd have believed we'd be talking behind your back if you trusted us. But like I said, that is going to take time. What we've got now though, that will get us through the wait."

He was being tested - he was sure of that. And failing. He couldn't begin to determine what Vin was getting at. What was more important that trust?

"I concede to being stymied Mr. Tanner."

"Think on it some." He smiled again. "You gonna eat that sandwich?"

Ezra just shook his head, already lost in the contemplation of what Vin had said. He watched the byplay, the men joking with each with an ease he couldn't fully understand. If this was what friendship was really all about, he decided he obviously had much to learn on the subject. It certainly did not match up with any experiences he had known.

He tried to examine it objectively but couldn't develop a theory that worked. They were here. All of them, on Christmas when surely there were better places to be. Hell, on any day, there would be better places than this to be. Why? That was the question he kept going back to, to the point it was beginning to make his head spin. Could they really want to include him in this circle of friendship? Was that possible without that illusive qualifier of trust? Again – not in his experience. Of course, he had to admit his experiences were far from stellar, and certainly were well outside the normal course of human interactions.

So, if Vin was right and something beyond trust was the key ingredient, what was it? What would make them consider that someday, somehow, he might manage to stop being the misfit he saw and become a real part of this – dare he say it, dare he even think it – family? What would give them the assurance to believe such an implausible, improbable and incongruous outcome?

"Faith." He wasn't aware he'd said it out loud until conversation stopped.

"Hallelujah, he has seen the light." Josiah smiled broadly.

Ezra turned to Chris, not able to even try to hide the disbelief of his conclusion. "You accept with blind faith that I could somehow find a place in this assemblage?"

"No. Not blind faith Ezra. That's for people less aware of the world than we are."

"We know it will work Pard. Don't ask us how, but we know."

Buck was nodding his agreement. "Already does work. Yeah, there are a few glitches from time to time, but that is what keeps things interesting. And just like us, you are a guy who likes interesting."

"You probably like it a bit too much for my taste, but I guess I can learn to live with that." Chris watched him, asking the question without saying the words.

There was no explaining this. No logic, no deductive reasoning, no statistical analysis that could be presented that would support a word of what was being said. There was, Ezra was certain, far more evidence to deny than verify the hypothesis. But somehow, at this moment, none of that mattered. He had his answer.

"Well then – Chris. Learn to live with it you shall, as I have no intention of changing my character that thoroughly. With adequate motivation, I might rein it in some, but the actions of Buck, JD and the rest of our band of rogues will no doubt provide more than sufficient stimulus for continued vexation."

"You plan on being on the receiving end of that vexation Ezra, or were you going to be doling it out." Nathan grinned as he asked, watching similar expressions break out on the faces of the others.

"I dare say there will be some of both."

Chris sighed dramatically. "Dear God, what have I gotten myself into now?"

**The End**


End file.
